


seven days (to fall in love)

by jeonhwa (seunghee)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-30 07:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11458602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seunghee/pseuds/jeonhwa
Summary: “Do you have a type then? So many people must come to ask you out every week, how do you choose?”“I just go out with the first person who asks me,” Mingyu says. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair, would it? To play favorites?”It doesn’t make any sense at all to Wonwoo. It doesn’t click for him to just spend a week with whoever happens to be the first one in line, who gets to run up to him and confess first, or the loudest one who can make their voice heard. But still, Wonwoo nods in agreement. “So you don’t have a type at all? You must have a kind of person you like though?”“Hmm. I don’t think so, not really. But let me think, Wonwoo-hyung.” Mingyu taps his chin, staring into the distance. Wonwoo is about to tell him that it’s okay if he doesn’t have a type, that Wonwoo could really not care less if Mingyu has a specific hair color or eye shape he likes when Mingyu’s face brightens up. “Oh! I like your face, hyung.”(the one where class 1-a's mingyu will go out with anyone who asks him out first, and class 2-a's wonwoo decideswhy not?)





	1. monday

**Author's Note:**

> an eight-part birthday present for my luckiest charm jeon wonwoo ♡
> 
>  
> 
> based on takarai rihito and tachibana venio's seven days, of which prior knowledge isn't necessary to read this.  
> yun, my cheerleader throughout this entire process, thank you + i love you ♡

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10 july: wonwoo wants jjajangmyeon, mingyu is too nice for his own good, and jihoon and soonyoung think this is the funniest shit _ever_.

Wonwoo doesn’t consider himself to be the luckiest in love. He doesn’t have that much experience to speak of— which, in his case, means none at all— and frankly, he’s not that interested in romance, not while university entrance exams are looming over his head. He wants to go to school for business or economics, and while he knows he’d be fine with either one, the scores he’d need to get into either one at a top school are insanely high.

So far, he’s managed to do well in school, becoming the vice president of the second year class and founding the first literature club there. Between helping to manage the events their class puts on every so often and setting up a space for anyone to freely discuss their favorite books, Wonwoo has no time at all for matters of the heart.

Which is why he’s currently spending his lunchtime staring out of the window and into the school courtyard down below. There’s a small group of girls all talking animatedly among themselves, and some of them seem to be holding small envelopes, evidently love letters.

“Oh, it’s starting again,” Jihoon remarks, looking over Wonwoo’s shoulder. “They’re waiting for him.”

“What’s happening? Why are you guys all crowded in here like this?” Soonyoung, who’s in another class, asks as he nudges his way in between Wonwoo and Jihoon. He leans his weight against Wonwoo’s shoulder, sighing wistfully. “Ah, the weekly ritual of love. Don’t you ever get tired of watching?”

“Not really,” Wonwoo says. He rests his chin on his palm, watching as some of the girls pull out their phones to start checking the time. “Kinda makes you wonder, though, doesn’t it? Like, why are they even waiting so long?”

“What does? Soonyoung doesn’t even think, let alone do things requiring an imagination,” Jihoon says wryly, which earns him a smack on the arm. “Oh right, I forgot you dance.”

“How do you _forget_ I dance? That’s all I ever talk about! Do you even listen to me when I open my mouth or does it just go in one ear and out the other?”

As the argument escalates behind him, both Soonyoung and Jihoon getting progressively louder and louder as their bickering gets more off track, Wonwoo sighs and turns his attention back outside the window. It’s been going on for at least a few weeks now. Every Monday, like clockwork, a crowd gathers in the courtyard, and the reason it happens had spread slowly through the school at first, then like a wildfire, as if someone had lit a flame under it.

Wonwoo supposes he can’t blame Kim Mingyu for attracting the eyes and hearts of even students years above him. He’s heard that every Monday at lunchtime, the first year agrees to go out with whoever manages to ask him out first. Apparently he doesn’t have a type— guys or girls, short or tall, pretty or not, he’ll say yes to all of them.

“It must suck, though, to go out with someone as handsome as he is and then break up with him after a week,” Soonyoung says, reappearing next to Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I guess it’s a good week, though, if no one’s ever talked shit about him behind his back for doing things like this.”

“I heard he’s a really great cook,” Jihoon says, straightening his collar. “Maybe that’s why. I mean, if he was good at making a decent cup of coffee I wouldn’t say anything bad about him either.”

“Speaking of food, though, do you think our jjajangmyeon’s here yet? We ordered that, like, twenty minutes ago, right? Wonwoo, go check if the delivery guy’s here yet, it’s your turn to pay~” Soonyoung singsongs.

“I hate you, Kwon Soonyoung,” Wonwoo grumbles, but he pushes himself out of his desk to make the trek down the stairs of the building. They’re lucky that as far as high schools go, theirs is pretty lax. They’re allowed to order delivery to the school as long as they can finish it within the forty-five minutes allotted for lunch, and being the teenage boys they are, they usually end up splitting the delivery fee three ways between them and taking turns paying for lunch.

He ends up passing by the crowd of girls on his way outside the gate, and he hears one of them mutter to her friend, “Where’s Mingyu-oppa? He wasn’t here the entire day, do you think something’s wrong?”

Well. It isn’t his problem if an underclassman skips school. He’s only responsible for his own class, not the one below him, so he ignores it and moves on. Wonwoo waits outside the gates for the deliveryman, taking out his phone only to see that Soonyoung and Jihoon have sent him a multitude of text messages in the two minutes that he’s been gone.

 _12:40 haemjji: hello wheres the food???_  
_12:40 haemjji: im starving_  
_12:40 haemjji: pls wonu :((_  
_12:41 uri jihoonie: ignore him_  
_12:41 uri jihoonie: take all the time you need wonwoo_  
_12:41 uri jihoonie: just ignore him_

Wonwoo snorts, tapping out quick messages before Soonyoung can whine any longer.

 _12:42 jeonha: calm down_  
_12:42 jeonha: the guys not here yet_  
_12:42 jeonha: oh wait i think i see him_  
_12:43 jeonha: youre saved_  
_12:43 jeonha: soooo needy_

Wonwoo lifts his head up— he’d heard the revving of engines, and he’d assumed that they were from the jjajangmyeon delivery guy’s motorbike, but he’s wrong. It’s a car instead, and he watches with no small amount of interest as a tall and lanky figure steps out of the passenger seat. He waves goodbye to the driver before watching the car drive away from the school.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to see the boy’s face to know who it is. All he needs is the first year uniform and the tanned skin and the unruly mop of hair, and he knows that it’s—

“Hey! Kim Mingyu!”

The boy turns, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. He stares at Wonwoo for just a brief moment before he’s bowing at the waist with his arms straight by his side. “Sunbae!”

Wonwoo doesn’t stop a small grin from curling across his lips. There’s something to be said about how _earnest_  Mingyu is. Wonwoo doesn’t know him all that well, really. He’s only had the chance to meet him a few times before, most memorably at the beginning of the school year when Wonwoo had given a welcome speech for the first years and Mingyu had been one of the class representatives.

Mingyu is standing so stiffly, though, and Wonwoo feels just a bit bad for him. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to be so formal with me. I’m not really anyone special, just hyung is alright.”

Mingyu straightens up, the expression on his face relaxing. “Is calling you Wonwoo-hyung okay?”

Wonwoo nods, and a relieved smile breaks out across Mingyu’s face. Mingyu shifts the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other, and then Wonwoo realizes something. “Why aren’t you in class? Did something come up?”

“Ah. My sister had a bit of a… feminine problem, so I went with her to grab some supplies. A neighbor drove me to school since she knew I was already late.” Mingyu rubs the back of his neck a bit sheepishly, before his eyes widen again, adding frantically, “I’ve already asked some of my classmates to lend me their notes so I’m not behind.”

“Oh, I’m not too concerned about that. I’m really not a stickler about things like that,” Wonwoo says, waving his hand in the air, and Mingyu heaves a sigh. “Why? Am I really that scary?”

Mingyu fidgets. “No, Wonwoo-hyung, but it’s just that… well. People talk, and I heard some people say you were really big on missing school and being late. Just things like that.”

Wonwoo actually laughs at that, a loud sound that comes barreling out of him, and he knows it’s the kind of laugh where his entire body folds into itself and his nose scrunches up. “Wow. Wow, no. If I were big on attendance, do you really think I would be friends with Kwon Soonyoung?”

“Oh, that sunbae? He’s the president of the dance team here, right?”

Wonwoo crosses his arms over his chest, pretending to puff up his chest with bravado. “Yeah, let’s just say that if I cracked down on everyone who was late to class or missed school, Kwon Soonyoung wouldn’t even be in school right now. He’s just lucky I take such good notes, otherwise he really might’ve failed his first year.” Wonwoo leans forward, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. “By the way, you shouldn’t call him sunbae. His head is already big as it is already, don’t inflate it even more.”

“I see, sun— Wonwoo-hyung,” Mingyu says, stumbling over the honorific. Wonwoo frowns inwardly. This can’t be the first time Mingyu’s spoken to an upperclassman, but why is he so awkward? He hadn’t seemed like this when Wonwoo had coincidentally happened to catch one of the sports games Mingyu was substituting in for an injured member for. He’d been amazing on the field, even though Wonwoo knows that Mingyu’s part of the swim team. Wonwoo wonders why he’s so… awkward now.

When Mingyu starts angling his body as if he’s about to leave, Wonwoo remembers the huge group of girls that had been waiting just inside the school gates. He gestures to the gates, waving a hand in the vague direction. “Mingyu, do they always wait for you like that?”

Mingyu flushes, ducking his head. “Oh— that. Hyung, you know about it?”

“Do _I_ know about it? Pretty much everyone knows about you, Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, not unkindly. “They’re all in love with that face of yours. So they always wait for you like this?”

“Kind of. I’m used to it, though, hyung. Don’t worry about me.” Mingyu smiles, and for the first time, Wonwoo notices that he has a very visible canine, one that shows whenever he smiles fully.

“Does it bother you?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu shakes his head.

“I don’t mind it. After all, it’s my fault that this happened, right?” Mingyu shrugs, in a _what can you do about it_  type of gesture.

“Do you have a type then? So many people must come to ask you out every week, how do you choose?”

“I just go out with the first person who asks me,” Mingyu says. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair, would it? To play favorites?”

It doesn’t make any sense at all to Wonwoo. It doesn’t click for him to just spend a week with whoever happens to be the first one in line, who gets to run up to him and confess first, or the loudest one who can make their voice heard. But still, Wonwoo nods in agreement. “So you don’t have a type at all? You must have a kind of person you like though?”

“Hmm. I don’t think so, not really. But let me think, Wonwoo-hyung.” Mingyu taps his chin, staring into the distance. Wonwoo is about to tell him that it’s okay if he doesn’t have a type, that Wonwoo could really not care less if Mingyu has a specific hair color or eye shape he likes when Mingyu’s face brightens up. “Oh! I like your face, hyung.”

His face? Wonwoo knows he’s handsome. It’s something people have told him ever since he was old enough to know what beauty and attractiveness were, that _oh, Jeon-ssi, your son is growing up to be more and more handsome by the day_  from the ahjummas at the neighborhood market, or _Wonwoo-yah, stop being so fucking handsome all the time, you make Jihoon and me look bad_ , from Soonyoung just earlier that month.

But as nice as it is having a face he can stare into a mirror for minutes and minutes on end for without stopping, it’s also a crutch in a way. There are expectations that people have of him, that he’s supposed to be well-mannered and intelligent and athletic, all of the qualities that would generally be packaged with a face like his, that he just can’t meet. He can’t be the model son or the top student or the star athlete, and he always watches the faces of expectation turn into faces of badly concealed disappointment when they realize he’s not all that he’s supposed to be.

Just as Mingyu is used to people swarming him, desperate to be the first one to say the magic words, Wonwoo is used to this. He’s used to people telling him they like his face and then being repelled by the way he always laughs too loudly and too widely, by the way he can lie in bed for hours on end without moving and still want an afternoon nap, by the way he can eat three servings’ worth of a meal in one sitting and have room for dessert.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo says. “Your face is nice too.”

Mingyu’s hands fly to his own cheeks, as if this is the first time he’s been told that his face is nice, which Wonwoo is one hundred percent certain it’s not. “I— thank you, hyung. I should probably—”

Right. Lunchtime. All of the girls waiting inside the gate for Mingyu. Wonwoo straightens up, brushes the imaginary lint off of his slacks, and moves so that Mingyu can pass by. Before he does, though, he’s struck by a sudden impulse, and he has no idea where it comes from or what it’s doing in his brain in the first place. But if Mingyu likes his face, there’s no real harm in doing what the idea is whispering at him to do, since they’re just sunbae and hoobae, just friends, right? He’s just curious, really, if Mingyu would say yes, so he blurts out, “Mingyu, would you go out with me?”

Mingyu stops in his tracks, and before he can respond, Wonwoo sees the jjajangmyeon delivery guy speed down the road, stopping in front of him. Finally. His phone’s been vibrating like crazy in the last few minutes, no doubt due to Soonyoung’s incessant messages. The smell of the noodles wafts out of the take out boxes, and Wonwoo is practically _salivating_.

Wonwoo approaches the delivery guy with the same kind of feelings that he expects that the first people to have ever discovered an oasis in the desert felt as well, and he rummages through his pockets for his wallet, but he comes up with nothing. _Fuck_. He must’ve left it in the classroom with Jihoon and Soonyoung in his backpack.

When he looks up, though, the delivery guy is gone, and Mingyu is standing there with the plastic bags dangling from his hands. Shit. Mingyu must’ve paid for it. “I’m so sorry, Mingyu, I left my wallet in my bag in my classroom. If you come by after class ends, I can pay you back for this, okay?”

Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “Wonwoo-hyung, what class are you in?”

“I’m in 2-A.”

“Oh really?” Mingyu grins. “I’m in 1-A, I guess we’re in the same class, just different years.”

Wonwoo sighs with relief, taking the bags from Mingyu. “I’m so glad I met you here, Mingyu. Thanks so much, you really saved my stomach today. Find me after class today, alright?”

Mingyu nods. “I’ll see you later, hyung,” he says, and waves Wonwoo off. “I’ll be heading in a bit later, so you go ahead, Wonwoo-hyung.”

When Wonwoo brings the jjajangmyeon back to the classroom, Soonyoung’s about to descend on it like a ravenous vulture when Jihoon puts a hand up.

“Wait. Soonyoung stole your wallet because he thought it would be funny to watch you run all the way back here to get your wallet when the delivery guy came,” Jihoon says around Soonyoung’s palm on his mouth, clearly trying to keep it a secret. He wrenches Soonyoung’s hand off of him and reaches into Wonwoo’s desk to pull out his wallet before waving it around in the air. “How’d you pay for this?”

“Oh. I met an underclassman outside, and he paid for the lunch.” At Soonyoung and Jihoon’s twin raised eyebrows, Wonwoo hurries to explain. “I’ll pay him back later, though, it’s not like I got treated to lunch by an underclassman. Jeez. Seriously. By the way, you’re an asshole, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung blows a kiss at him when Wonwoo settles into his chair, picking apart a pair of chopsticks. “I love you too,” he mumbles happily around a mouthful of noodles.

“Stop talking while you’re eating,” Jihoon says, disgust written into every line of his face. Soonyoung stares at him, his jaws paused mid-chew, before he lunges forward to bring his face right in of Jihoon’s. “Oh god, Wonwoo, get him away from me! Stop, I’m trying to eat, what is your _problem_?”

Wonwoo exhales before reaching forward to smack Soonyoung on the small of his back. “Hey, Kwon Soonyoung, stop that, or I’m pretty sure Jihoon is going to come by your house in the middle of the night and set everything you love on fire.” Wonwoo pauses to think. “He’d probably take your those choreo vids we all agreed never happened and release them to the world, too.”

“You wouldn’t,” Soonyoung breathes out, his jjajangmyeon forgotten. “Lee Jihoon, you wouldn’t.”

Jihoon shrugs, leaning back in his chair and slurping up a mouthful of noodles and sauce. “Do you want the secret that only the three of us know to become a secret the entire world knows?” Jihoon’s lips curl into a wicked grin. “Your move.”

Soonyoung is the calmest Wonwoo’s ever seen him at lunch, and when he finishes off his bowl and tosses it into the bag, he glares at Jihoon. “Watch out, you little gremlin. Don’t forget I still have those preschool videos of you trying to serenade our teacher,” he cheerily singsongs before making a break for the door and running for his own classroom in 2-B before Jihoon can even react.

Wonwoo hides his laugh behind his hand as Jihoon sits there, fuming and writing _Kwon Soonyoung is going to die_  on his notes. The rest of the class passes by in such a blur that he almost forgets that he’d asked Mingyu to come by after the day ended. Of course, the whispers start up a few minutes after the final bell rings, and Wonwoo cranes his neck above the relatively lower sea of heads to see what’s going on.

“Isn’t that 1-A’s Kim Mingyu? What’s he doing here?” Wonwoo hears, and he’s out, grabbing his wallet and pushing past his classmates to reach Mingyu. Mingyu’s leaning against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, and he’s smiling down— down! It’s been a while since Wonwoo’s had to look _up_  at anyone, and he doesn’t know if he likes it or not— at Wonwoo.

“Hi, Wonwoo-hyung.”

“Hey, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, and counts out the exact change plus a few thousand won extra for the tip that Mingyu had probably paid as well before handing it out to him.

“Oh, thanks,” Mingyu says, folding the bills up. He takes out his phone. “Hyung, could I get your Kakao id? Is that okay?”

Wonwoo blinks. It’s not a weird question, but it’s just a bit _faster_  than Wonwoo usually exchanges info like that with people he’s just become friends with. But still, maybe Mingyu is just overly friendly, so he shrugs and takes the phone, keying his name and info into the Kakao app. “Here,” he says when he’s done, handing the phone back.

“Great. I’ll text you later so you have my contact info too, hyung.” Mingyu puts his phone away before leaning forward to tuck something into Wonwoo’s jacket pocket. He grins. “See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says absently, meandering back to his desk, where Jihoon is waiting. He’s just a bit taken aback, though, when he sees the expression Jihoon has on. “What?”

“Since _when_  were you friends with Kim Mingyu?” Jihoon asks, his eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not friends with him,” Wonwoo says, still confused. “He’s the one who paid for lunch earlier, so I asked him come by so I could pay him back.”

Jihoon snorts. “Look in your pocket, you dumbass.”

With a feeling of dread starting to materialize in his stomach, Wonwoo looks down, and he almost immediately regrets doing it. In his jacket pocket are the neatly folded bills that he’d just handed over to Mingyu for lunch.

“I just got treated to lunch by an underclassman,” Wonwoo groans, but there’s something unsettling about this that he can’t quite put his finger on.

He realizes what it is as he’s walking home and searching through his apps for some new music to listen to on the way back. There’s a new notification from his Kakao, and when he clicks on it, a message pops up saying that _Kim Mingyu has added you_ , and Wonwoo finally puts it together.

Paying for lunch, asking for his contact info— there’s only one way to explain it: did Mingyu think he was serious?

 

(six days remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be changing it a bit up, so for those who've read the source material, it's not going to be 100% the same! chapters will be posted in semi-realtime in this next week leading up to wonwoo's birthday. :) thank you for reading~ ♡


	2. tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11 july: bohyuk gets suspicious, mingyu is in trouble, and wonwoo learns one of mingyu's secrets.

Wonwoo’s phone is buzzing. It’s honestly way too early for him to be woken up like this, given the fact that his alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, so he groans and rolls over in bed to try to ignore it. It doesn’t work. The buzzing goes on, and the more he lets it continue, the more he feels like his skull is going to split apart.

“What the fuck,” he grumbles under his breath, finally giving in and reaching for his phone on the bedside stand. He squints at the display glowing on the screen— he doesn’t have his glasses on, and he doesn’t sleep with contacts, either, so he has to lean a bit closer to see who it is that keeps messaging him at fucking six thirty in the morning. He’s ready to tear into Soonyoung or Jihoon, whichever one of those two it is, for ruining his sleep until he reads the messages, and now he’s even _more_  ready to fight someone at lunchtime.

 _06:29 kim mingyu: good morning!_  
_06:30 kim mingyu: hi wonwoo-hyung!_  
_06:30 kim mingyu: are you awake?_  
_06:30 kim mingyu: it’s going to be a warm day today_  
_06:31 kim mingyu: so make sure to put on sunscreen_  
_06:31 kim mingyu: so you don’t get burnt_

 _Kim Mingyu_ , Wonwoo types out, still squinting in the dark. He’s usually not even coherent this early, but he takes extra care to spell every word correctly and to not use any of the slang he’s gotten used to with Soonyoung and Jihoon. He has to put his foot down, show Mingyu who’s the boss here. This is serious business. _Do you want to die?_

The reply comes almost instantaneously. _Umm, not really. Why?_

 _Because you probably have a death wish, waking me up this early_ , Wonwoo sends, and it doesn’t take long for his message to be read. He wonders if Mingyu is lying on his bed and squinting in the darkness the way Wonwoo is, or if he’s awake already and getting ready for school. Whatever, Mingyu’s morning routines aren’t Wonwoo’s business, and Wonwoo’s shouldn’t be Mingyu’s, so why—

His phone buzzes again, this time with an incoming call, and Wonwoo sighs as he picks up. It’s honestly too early for him to be awake, and he knows that he probably shouldn’t take out his early morning anger on Mingyu, but he just can’t help himself. It’s just so _early_.

“ _What?_ ”

“I didn’t expect you to be so grumpy in the morning, Wonwoo-hyung,” Mingyu says, his voice tinny over the phone. “Are you more of a night owl?”

Mingyu doesn’t even sound that excited to be awake, though, the way that his other friends who wake up at ungodly hours do whenever they try prank calling him at five in the morning. He wonders if Mingyu’s up so he can bother Wonwoo, or if there’s an underlying reason for it all.

“Yeah, I am. Why would I want to wake up this early when I don’t even need to be awake until seven to get ready for school?”

“I guess that makes sense. Wonwoo-hyung seems like the kind of person who stays up all night reading, anyway.” Wonwoo hears a low and muffled laugh from over the connection. It’s still evidently tinged with sleep, and if that alone hadn’t already confirmed Wonwoo’s suspicions, the telltale sound of Mingyu trying to suppress a yawn comes through the phone.

“Hey, you’re not a morning person either, are you?” Wonwoo accuses. “Did you wake up this early just to annoy me? You did, didn’t you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Mingyu says, his voice softer now. “I kind of had a dream and I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I might just text you to see if you were awake. Sorry for waking you up. I just— I just wanted to talk to you.”

Well, shit. Wonwoo feels _awful_  now, suddenly more awake than he’d been at any second during the last five minutes. “Are you okay now? Was it a nightmare?”

There’s a terrifying, horrifying second when all Wonwoo can hear is Mingyu’s steady breathing. “No, hyung. It was just a regular dream. Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday when I get the chance to.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t a nightmare, though,” Wonwoo says before he looks back at the alarm clock on his desk, its glowing numbers still bright in the rapidly dawning morning light. “I don’t know if you or I can even go back to sleep after this, though. I’m going to go get ready for school, so I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Okay,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo has his index finger hovering over the button to end the call when Mingyu yells out, “wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Um. Hyung, do you want to eat lunch together today? I promise I won’t pay for your meal this time.”

Wonwoo snorts, but he’s glad that they’re separated by phone screens right now so Mingyu can’t see the smile on his face. It’s been a long time since he’s gotten to have lunch with someone whose name wasn’t Lee Jihoon or Kwon Soonyoung. Even though he knows he doesn’t get out much, it never hurts to have more friends. “Sure thing. Do you want to drop by 2-A? Or should I come down to you?”

“We can go on the roof, if you’d like.”

Wonwoo’s interest is immediately piqued. “The roof? But it’s locked.”

“I know a way in,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo has _no idea_  how Mingyu knows the way to the roof when Wonwoo doesn’t even though he’s a year older. He’s going to find out today, though. Definitely. “I’ll show you.”

“Alright, Kim Mingyu. Don’t flake on me,” Wonwoo warns. “I’ve always wanted to go up to the roof.”

Mingyu laughs, brighter than the chuckle he’d let out before. “Okay, hyung. I’ll see you later.”

Wonwoo gets ready in almost record time. When he makes it to the dinner table, his backpack on his shoulders and his tie securely in place over his clothes, Bohyuk stares at him from across the plates, his chopsticks clattering noisily to the ground.

“What?” Wonwoo pulls out a chair and plops down in it, reaching for the boxes of cereal to pour a bowl out for himself.

“Nothing,” Bohyuk says, his eyebrows furrowing, disappearing momentarily under the table to retrieve his chopsticks. “You look… happy today. You’re never happy in the morning. You always act like someone kicked you in your sleep when you wake up.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “I’m always happy.”

“Hyung, that is so untrue. Last week, you told me my hair looked ugly even though you were the one who chose it for me in the first place, and it was only because I woke you up before you’d be late to school. Now you’re like, thirty minutes early. What gives?”

“Maybe I just wanted to wake up early for once,” Wonwoo says, noisily bringing spoonful after spoonful of cereal into his mouth so he doesn’t need to listen to Bohyuk talking anymore, which makes his brother stare at him even more _strangely_. “What _now_? Jeon Bohyuk, aren’t you tired of seeing my face after so many years?”

“Well, yeah, kinda,” Bohyuk starts, then he says more slowly, “Hyung, you _never_  eat this flavor of cereal. The one you like is in the cupboard.”

Wonwoo blinks, looking down into the bowl. Oh, he’s right. This is the one with the mixed nuts and berries, and he wrinkles his nose. “Oh, ew. How’d you notice, Bohyukie?”

Bohyuk pushes himself and his chair back out of the table so quickly that the chairs screech against the floor. “That’s the third weird thing! You _never_  call me Bohyukie! Never! Why are you so damn weird today, hyung?”

Wonwoo watches Bohyuk leave for school, with Bohyuk looking back every so often as he laces his shoes up and tossing him a “ugh, so weird, who are you and what have you done to my brother?” before he steps out of the door. Whatever. It’s not Wonwoo’s fault Bohyuk is the weird one in their family.

Wonwoo finishes his cereal and cleans up his and Bohyuk’s meals, and he grabs the extra roll of kimbap his mom had laid out on the table for lunch. He’s strangely… happy when he’s walking to school. There’s a weird skip in his step, and it’s when he finds himself whistling along to the birdsong he hears on the road that he can finally admit it to himself— yeah, something’s wrong with him today. Something’s really wrong.

The first few hours of school go as usual. There’s homeroom, where Jihoon tries to stack as many ripped up pieces of paper into Wonwoo’s hair before he notices, then English and Korean. After their Korean literature teacher leaves the room, it’s lunchtime, and Wonwoo looks down at his notes to see doodles scribbled all over the page. Weird.

“It’s him again,” Jihoon says, seemingly apropos of nothing, and Wonwoo lifts his head up from his backpack from where he’d been looking for his roll of kimbap to share with Soonyoung.

“Who?” Wonwoo asks, but he doesn’t need to ask to know the answer. Mingyu’s standing in the doorway, and once he catches Wonwoo’s eye, he waves. “Oh, gotta go.”

“Hey, Jeon Wonwoo,” Soonyoung starts. “What exactly is Kim Mingyu doing here? And why are you going to lunch with him?”

“He’s just a hoobae,” Wonwoo says defensively. “I don’t know why you’re being so weird about it, you’re acting like I can’t have friends a different age from me. What about Seokmin for you? What about Seungcheol-hyung for Jihoon?”

“You’re misdirecting us on purpose. That isn’t our point at all and you know it,” Jihoon says, his eyes narrowing.

“Am not,” Wonwoo says, taking his roll of kimbap, and for good measure, he sticks his tongue out at Jihoon and Soonyoung, a gesture that only Soonyoung returns.

“They seem to be really good friends of yours,” Mingyu comments, swinging a small cloth bag in front of him as they walk up the staircase.

“Yeah, they just seem like that if you haven’t spent much time with them at all,” Wonwoo snorts. He tosses the roll of kimbap into the air, catching it as it falls. “But they’re really annoying once you get to know them well. Trust me.”

They’re at the top of the stairwell now, after passing the third floor, and Wonwoo stops right in front of the door.

“It’s locked,” Wonwoo says, reaching out to jiggle the handle. It doesn’t budge. “See? I told you.”

“Wonwoo-hyung, let me.” Mingyu shoves his way past Wonwoo, and he holds out the bag he’d been swinging around before. “Oh, can you hold my lunch for me?”

Wonwoo takes the bag and watches as Mingyu pushes the lock into the handle before twisting it in the opposite direction that it’s supposed to go. It opens, and Mingyu turns to give Wonwoo a victorious grin before pushing the door open more widely.

“After you, hyung,” he says with an exaggerated bow, and even though Wonwoo scoffs, he still goes through. The rooftop is more expansive than he’d thought, spanning nearly an entire baseball diamond and more. It’s almost unearthly still up here, and Wonwoo can only imagine what he can do up here without having to deal with his friends. He can read as much as he wants, or he can get some homework done, or he can just lie down and take a nap. It’s perfect.

“It’s really not that cool,” Mingyu says, coming up behind Wonwoo, and Wonwoo startles, very nearly dropping Mingyu’s bag of lunch and his own roll of kimbap.

“I’ve never been here before, okay?” Wonwoo mumbles, shoving the bag back into Mingyu’s chest, and Mingyu lets out a soft _oof_. “Where do you usually sit?”

“There.” Mingyu points at what looks to be an unused shed, and Wonwoo can practically feel his eyebrows going all the way up to his hairline. It looks like a bad idea, and everything Wonwoo’s learned from watching horror movies tells him to never go into abandoned sheds.

“We’re going in there?”

“Uh, I think that shed’s locked really tightly, so don’t worry. Some of my classmates told me that it used to be a clubroom, but the club was disbanded, so the room was shut down too. We can just sit in the shade next to it, since it looks pretty clean over there.”

Wonwoo shrugs. It can’t be that bad, since the floor looks pretty clean, if a little bit dusty. Besides, even if Mingyu ends up kidnapping him, at least Jihoon and Soonyoung know that Wonwoo was with the underclassman. It’s fine. He takes a seat next to Mingyu on the ground next to the shed, his back against the wall. Taking Mingyu’s silence as a cue to start eating, Wonwoo picks up his kimbap and starts peeling off the plastic wrap. He has a piece halfway to his mouth when he feels something tap his leg.

He looks down. It’s a small carton of banana milk, and Wonwoo looks up to meet Mingyu’s eyes. There’s a small smile playing at the edges of Mingyu’s lips, and the longer Mingyu taps the carton of milk against Wonwoo’s leg, the wider the grin gets.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to buy me lunch.”

The carton taps more insistently against his leg. “Hyung, who will drink this banana milk if you don’t? What if it just goes to waste? It’ll just end up in the garbage if you don’t drink it. I already have one. Why don’t you just take this?”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at Mingyu. After paying for his jjajangmyeon yesterday, and now this, it’s obvious what Mingyu is up to. “I know what’s going on.”

“You do?”

Then Wonwoo realizes that this is his chance. He can clear any and all of the misconceptions that Mingyu might’ve had about him— he can tell Mingyu that he’d just been testing whether or not Mingyu _really_  went out with anyone. He can finally, finally ask Mingyu if he thinks they’re actually dating.

Wonwoo swallows. “hey, Mingyu, can I ask you a question?”

Mingyu doesn’t look up. He’s too busy trying to balance the carton of banana milk on Wonwoo’s leg. “Yeah, go ahead, hyung.”

“Are we dating right now?”

Mingyu looks up at him, and with wide, wide eyes, says, “yeah, Wonwoo-hyung. You were the one who asked me. Now are you going to drink this milk or not?”

Wonwoo should stop this. He really, really should— this isn’t going to end well for either of them, and it’s only going to cause both of them pain in the long run since Mingyu is just a _friend_. But Mingyu’s eyes are so bright and so expectant that the words die out in Wonwoo’s throat, and instead of _Mingyu, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would actually take it seriously_ , he says, “yeah, I will,” and snatches the carton out of Mingyu’s hands.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s doing something unspeakably wrong somehow, but he figures that this is probably what the routine is like. If Mingyu dates someone different every week, it must be commonplace for him to buy that special person lunch and take them up to this roof and tap cartons of banana milk against their leg until they finally give in and take it.

This must be something he’s done many times before, enough for word to spread that Kim Mingyu is a nice guy who’ll give you a fun week of memories and break up with you on good terms. He’s never, ever heard anything bad about Mingyu, so he probably doesn’t try anything that anyone’s uncomfortable with during those weeks.

Mingyu might just be lonely. Wonwoo doesn’t understand how someone like him, with looks that draw people in like honey and the personality to match, could possibly be lonely enough to date anyone at all who asks him out, but he supposes that maybe that’s what Mingyu is looking for in life— a steady stream of companionship, of learning new things about people and of making new friends.

Wonwoo thinks that out of everything he could choose to fault Mingyu for, it’s definitely not this. Mingyu is kind and charming, and if he’s going to spend the next week with Mingyu— if he’s going to spend the next week _dating_  Mingyu, he might as well make it worth both of their time. After all, they’re both busy people, and they don’t have that much time left.

So Wonwoo lets himself lean against Mingyu just a little— Mingyu is just a tiny bit taller than he is, if Wonwoo tells himself that four centimeters is “just a tiny bit,” and the difference between them isn’t as apparent when they’re sitting down. Mingyu is warm and solid next to him, and Wonwoo thinks that everyone else before him, they’ve all been lucky to have someone like Mingyu by their side.

Well. Time’s ticking. Even if Wonwoo doesn’t think he’ll necessarily be the _best_  date Mingyu’s ever had, Wonwoo’s confident that he’s going to be the best friend Mingyu’s made out of a situation like this.

Wonwoo takes the next piece out of his kimbap roll and offers it to Mingyu, sucking noisily on the straw of the carton. “You want some?” he asks once the carton is empty. “It’s really good.”

“What’s inside?” Mingyu asks even as he takes the roll. He closes his eyes as he chews, as if he’s trying to decipher its secrets. “Kimchi and radish? It tastes like there’s a little bit of sesame in here too?”

He’s three for three. “How did you know?”

“Ah, I cook, so it’s pretty easy to tell what ingredients are in food.” Mingyu takes the lid off of his boxed lunch so Wonwoo can see what’s inside. It’s just a regular lunch with beef, kimchi, and lettuce laid out on a bed of rice, but Wonwoo can tell that it’s very clearly homemade.

“You should cook for me sometime,” Wonwoo blurts out before his brain to mouth filter can stop him. He wishes he could take the words back, try to explain them as him just being overexcited about Mingyu’s cooking and to draw back the unspoken boundaries that he must’ve already crossed. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice, though.

“I will, if you want me to,” Mingyu replies, grinning. “You might have to fight Minseo for the portions, though. I usually cook for her whenever I make myself lunches, too. Our parents can’t since they have to work really early.”

“Minseo?”

“She’s my little sister. She’s still in elementary school, though, so you’ll probably be able to beat her. Maybe.” Mingyu shrugs. “She has some really strong fists, that one, especially when it comes to food.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that feeling. My little brother, Bohyuk, is getting worse and worse by the day.” Wonwoo sighs. “Pretty soon, he’ll eat all of the food in my house and be taller than me.”

“Become taller than you? Wonwoo-hyung, that’s not really that hard to do,” Mingyu says, an expression of faux innocence on his face, and Wonwoo doesn’t even hesitate before he reaches forward to smack Mingyu on the arm. “Ow!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re— you’re— an overgrown beanstalk,” Wonwoo snaps, biting into a piece of kimbap. “I’ll have you know that I’m the tallest out of my group of friends. All of them.”

“Me too, hyung, you’re not special,” Mingyu says lightly. “Do you want my banana milk too? It looks like you might need some help growing in the height department.”

That’s it. Wonwoo smacks Mingyu again. “Listen, I’m a perfectly normal height! You’re just too tall. Maybe your parents gave you too much milk when you were younger, and that’s why you’re so… sticky. Like a long pokey stick.”

“Wow, Wonwoo-hyung, has anyone ever told you that your insults are really bad or do they all just play along with how totally bad they are?”

Wonwoo hasn’t ever been this offended ever since Soonyoung told him that his choice of a bright pink beanie clashed with the black hoodie and red plaid pants he’d worn to the movies. It’s a good kind of offended, though, the kind that lights a fire under Wonwoo and makes him want to start coming up with rebuttal after rebuttal. If being with Mingyu is going to be this easy and fun for the rest of the week, Wonwoo doesn’t think he’ll mind at all.

They end up postponing their war of words until another day when they don’t have just fifteen minutes left to eat lunch, and Mingyu feeds Wonwoo beef and kimchi wrapped in the lettuce he’d brought along in exchange for more pieces of kimbap. Mingyu ends up drinking the other carton of banana milk, and when they’re cleaning up, Wonwoo takes both empty cartons and their trash to toss it all away later.

“I can do it,” Mingyu says, making grabbing motions at the pile of trash in Wonwoo’s hands, and Wonwoo shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. You brought the milk, anyway, this is the least I could do.” He steps through the door first, and Mingyu shuts the door behind them. “So you don’t have to lock it again or anything?”

“Nah, it stays locked unless you know the right way to open it.” Mingyu leads the way down the staircase. “You remember how to open it right, hyung?”

Wonwoo pauses on the step, trying to remember what Mingyu had done. Press the lock into the handle, pull the handle in the opposite direction, push the door out. “Yeah, I think so.”

Mingyu turns with his entire body to smile at Wonwoo. “Good. This is going to be our secret, okay, hyung?”

Wonwoo nods even though he doesn’t know why his throat feels like it’s closing up. “Yeah, Mingyu. Our secret.”

When Wonwoo gets back to the classroom, Mingyu passing him by with a wave before he heads down to the first year classrooms, Jihoon gives him the stink eye. He’s alone, which means that Soonyoung must be back in his own class already.

“Lunch with Kim Mingyu?” Jihoon hisses as their English teacher starts talking about compound words. “ _Really_ , Jeon Wonwoo? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“Shut up, there’s nothing going on,” Wonwoo says absently. He has more important things to worry about, like the difference between compound words and hyphenated words. He doesn’t have time to think about Kim Mingyu’s smile, or Kim Mingyu’s voice, or the warmth of Kim Mingyu’s leg against his. Of course not.

Even so, he realizes after the period is over, that he’s doodled puppies and dogs all over the page. Wonwoo wrinkles his nose. He’s not the biggest fan of dogs, but he supposes that that’s what Mingyu reminds him of the most— an overly excited, hyper puppy.

He can’t wait for tomorrow.

 

(five days remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos ;;;; it means a lot to me!! 8_8


	3. wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12 july: wonwoo has questions, jeonghan has answers, and mingyu has another carton of milk.

_06:50 kim mingyu: wonwoo-hyung_  
_06:50 kim mingyu: do you want to eat lunch together again today?_  
_06:56 jeon wonwoo: thanks for waking me up at a normal time today lol_  
_06:56 jeon wonwoo: but yeah sure_  
_06:56 jeon wonwoo: want to come up again?_  
_06:58 kim mingyu: ok!_

The day goes pretty much the same way yesterday had gone. Wonwoo rolls out of bed earlier than he’s used to, slipping on his uniform and doing his best imitation of a zombie as he makes his way to the kitchen. And just like yesterday, Bohyuk gives him weird looks over his breakfast again even though Wonwoo remembers to take the cereal he likes from the cupboard before pouring out a bowl for himself.

“What? Stop being weird, Bohyukie. You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep that up, and you’re only in middle school.”

“Stop calling me Bohyukie,” he grumbles over his mouthful of cereal. “It’s way too hot outside for you to be acting all weird like this. I don’t need this in my life.”

“I’m not weird, why do you think I’m weird? What did I even do to you, my little Bohyukie?”

“You were _singing_  in the shower! And stop it with the little Bohyukie, that’s so weird!”

Wonwoo pauses. That’s nothing new, though. “I always sing in the shower, though? How is _that_  weird?”

“I mean yeah, you always sing in the shower. You usually sing stuff like drama soundtracks and ballads, and mom and I used to joke that you were like our little radio whenever you were showering, but now you’re singing love songs! It’s like someone totally just changed the channel!”

“Really?” Wonwoo doesn’t remember this at all. “What was I singing?”

“Um, I don’t know. Something about like, first love and ‘you’re so pretty’ and things like that— oh.” Bohyuk’s eyes go as wide as the bowl of cereal he’s eating. “Hyung, are you _in love_?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. He has to keep his cover, and if Bohyuk knew, Wonwoo would never, ever hear the end of it, so he starts weaving a web of lies. “No, of course I’m not. You preteen boys are always just thinking about things like that. I don’t even have _time_  to be in love, okay? I have to study and be class vice president, so no, I’m not in love.”

“Hyung, you don’t have to be in a relationship to be in love,” Bohyuk presses. “It totally makes sense, this is why you’ve been acting so weird. Ugh, I should’ve noticed earlier, what kind of brother am I?”

“A really unobservant one,” Wonwoo deadpans, and he fakes a look at his watch. “Oh wow, look at the time. I’m late for school. Oh no. Gotta go, Bohyukie, don’t miss me too much.”

Wonwoo grabs his backpack before making his way to the doorway to slip his shoes on, and Bohyuk’s yell of “you have twenty minutes left, hyung, you liar!” Follows him out the door. Wonwoo can’t quite hide his smile, though, and he’s fairly certain that he ends up scaring some squirrels on the way to school with the look on his face. Whatever. What Bohyuk doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Jihoon ends up being harder to fool than Bohyuk. As Wonwoo settles into his seat, Jihoon turns around and stabs the pointed end of a pencil into his chest. It barely misses his heart, instead being stopped by the soft fabric of his summer outerwear, a light grey school-issued cardigan.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Wonwoo whines, brushing the small graphite stain off of his cardigan. “I just washed this last week.”

“I don’t care,” Jihoon says, brusque and clipped. He takes out a pencil sharpener from his backpack and starts sharpening the pencil he’d just used to attack Wonwoo. “You’re going to get more of where that came from if you don’t spill.”

“Spill about what?” Wonwoo tries to play dumb, but he supposes that Jihoon’s a lot smarter than Bohyuk is. He tries to smile at Jihoon, but Jihoon’s like a shark that’s just smelled blood in the air, and Wonwoo’s smile disappears as quickly as it had been plastered on his face.

“Are you and Kim Mingyu dating?”

“Um.” Well, that was direct. Wonwoo had been expecting a more gentle interrogation, maybe something along the lines of “so, I’ve noticed that you and that one underclassman are getting close now,” or “what a nice day it is outside, is that why you’ve been spending your lunch with that one kid?”

Jihoon probably doesn’t have the time to waste on pleasantries, then. He’s busy enough with his music club as it is, so Wonwoo and his current situation are probably at a solid middle in the mental ranking Jihoon has of everything important to him. At the very top is his family, followed by his music; at the very bottom is studying for the Korean exams he knows he’ll ace and responding to Soonyoung’s half-whined half-demanded pleas for them to come watch him perform. Wonwoo’s love life is just interesting enough for Jihoon to want to know more, but it’s probably not intriguing enough for Jihoon to want to pursue the matter any more than a few questions right before homeroom.

Which is why Wonwoo deflects the question, instead of answering like he knows any other sane human would’ve done. “Am I, or are you?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I have better things to worry about. Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo. I hope you have fun living alone with your fifty cats in the future.”

When Jihoon turns back to scribble some music notes onto the surface of his English textbook, Wonwoo pumps his fist in triumph. But then he realizes, belatedly, that he doesn’t know anything at all about this once a week dating thing Mingyu has going, and if anyone’s going to know something, it’s going to be Jihoon.

He leans forward and pokes Jihoon in the back with his finger. Jihoon twitches, but he doesn’t respond. Sad. Wonwoo pokes Jihoon harder this time, jamming the tip of his index finger right in between Jihoon’s shoulder blades, and this time, Jihoon flinches with his entire body before turning around and slapping Wonwoo’s hand away.

“ _What_?”

“Not that I am, but since you asked, have you ever dated Kim Mingyu?” Wonwoo asks, trying to keep it cool. He’s fairly certain that Jihoon won’t notice anything amiss, since Wonwoo’s been told that he has a pretty good poker face, but. Well. He and Jihoon and Soonyoung have known each other for just over a decade, ever since they’d discovered that it was more fun to pretend to be Pokemon and run around in the grass with three people in total instead of just one. It’s practically impossible for him to fool them, since they can read each other like open books.

Jihoon is silent, and Wonwoo nearly bites back a scream. If Jihoon’s dated Mingyu before, Wonwoo just might have to break it off before the week is over. There are some things he can’t handle, and this is one of them. Then he realizes that Jihoon’s face has stayed almost deathly still for the past thirty seconds, and even when he reaches out to poke Jihoon’s cheek, he doesn’t respond.

“Hey, you okay?”

“ _No_ ,” Jihoon chokes out, sounding like a mildly strangled cat. “I can’t believe you just _said_  that. Me? Date Kim Mingyu? I’d rather date Bohyuk.”

“Ew, that’s disgusting.”

“Exactly.” Jihoon’s face smoothens out into its usual placid half-frown half-what Soonyoung and Wonwoo have started calling his kitten grin. “Anyway, I’ve never dated Kim Mingyu because I have standards, but I know someone who has.”

“Who?” Wonwoo leans forward in his chair, and now that he knows he’s got Wonwoo’s attention, Jihoon leans slightly back, his smirk growing by the second.

“Guess,” Jihoon says, and when Wonwoo’s about to open his mouth to complain that there are so many people in the school, how is Wonwoo supposed to know who’s dated Mingyu and who hasn’t, Jihoon gives him a hint. “It’s someone you know. Someone we both know well.”

Wonwoo squints at Jihoon. He racks his brain for people both he and Jihoon know— even though they’ve known each other for an inordinately long time, they don’t really run in the same friend groups. They know a lot of people, but only superficially, so thinking about someone that the two of them both know well is a bit difficult. There’s Soonyoung, of course, but other than him, they don’t have too many others in common.

Unless, of course, they’re talking about the student council, which they’re both members of, and Wonwoo suddenly realizes that he has the answer. It can’t be Seungcheol, the student body president, nor can it be Jisoo, the secretary— there’s no way Wonwoo could see either of them with Mingyu. That leaves just one person.

“Jeonghan-hyung?” Wonwoo asks, half expecting Jihoon to burst out in a cloud of glitter and streamers and say _Surprise! We tricked you!_.

The glitter and streamers don’t come, though, and Jihoon only nods. “Yep.”

“But… but… aren’t they super awkward with each other? Like, _super_  awkward?” Wonwoo’s heard tales of how when Jeonghan and Mingyu see each other in the hallways, they won’t make eye contact. Apparently it’s hard for them to make and then maintain eye contact long enough to greet each other, so they just don’t.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Okay, first off, they’re not really that awkward. It’s just a rumor. But they _are_  a little bit awkward, so second off, where do you think the awkwardness came from?”

“Oh, so they were okay before the dating thing but once they broke up it got weird?”

“I don’t really know the specifics, but if you want to know more, you should find Jeonghan-hyung. He’ll probably be willing to tell you anything and everything.” Jihoon hums. “You’re being really suspicious right now, Wonwoo, I’m just saying. So weird.”

Wonwoo huffs. “What, a guy can’t be curious about his new friend without people think he’s dating him? I just wanted to meet the infamous Kim Mingyu, okay, and so what if I think this is interesting?”

“Okay, okay, whatever.” Jihoon’s eyes sharpen onto Wonwoo. “But listen up, Wonwoo. I think you should ask Mingyu why he’s doing this in the first place since he probably has a reason he only ever dates people for a week and then breaks up with them. He’s not a game for you to play with, so don’t treat his feelings like they’re insignificant.”

“I told you, we’re not dating,” Wonwoo lies, and even the small voice in the back of his brain sneers at him. _Jeon Wonwoo, you liar, your mom is going to be so disappointed_ , the voice taunts him, and Wonwoo smushes it into the back of his mind with all of the other voices for rational thought and reason.

“Alright, well, okay. Then I’m telling you as a friend not to toy with him, even if it’s as a friend or not.” Jihoon’s face softens. “Treat him the way you’d want to be treated, yeah?”

Wonwoo swallows. He hadn’t thought about it that way before, but now that he thinks about it, he realizes he hasn’t been treating Mingyu fairly. He’s been treating the entire relationship as an experience to have, while for Mingyu it’s probably an earnest effort to find someone he really likes. He could just _kick_  himself. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll talk to Jeonghan-hyung after class, thanks for the tip.”

“You’re so sketchy, Wonwoo. Has anyone ever told you you’re a really bad liar?” Jihoon asks, wrinkling his nose, and before Wonwoo can make any kind of clever comeback, their homeroom teacher strolls into the room and all of Wonwoo’s rebuttals die in his throat. He files a mental note to himself in the back of his brain: tell Jihoon he’s fucking wrong.

When lunch finally rolls around, slowly and mercifully, Wonwoo doesn’t even wait for Soonyoung to traipse over to their room before he escapes, taking his usual roll of kimbap with him as he makes his way to the second floor stairwell landing. He waits there until he sees Mingyu’s familiar tuft of hair coming up from the first floor, and then he turns and pretends like he hasn’t been waiting.

“Hi, Wonwoo-hyung. Were you waiting long?” Mingyu asks, tapping Wonwoo on the shoulder, and he turns and shrugs as nonchalantly as he can.

“Nah, I just got here so you wouldn’t have to come over to the classroom. My friends are nosy, anyway.” Wonwoo motions to the stairs, and they start climbing to the top floor. He tries to walk so that he’s always looking at Mingyu, and ends up nearly tripping over a step.

Mingyu reaches out just in time to grab Wonwoo’s wrist to steady him, and after it’s clear that neither of them is going to fall anymore, he asks, “Oh, are they? They seem so nice, though?”

“I told you once and I’ll tell you again and I’ll keep telling you this as long as I live, but don’t be fooled by Kwon Soonyoung’s and Lee Jihoon’s appearances. They’re evil. They’re evil and sneaky,” Wonwoo says as they reach the top of the stairs. He waits for Mingyu to open the door, but when all he gets is a blank look and a vague gesture, he realizes that Mingyu wants him to try opening it. “Brat,” he mutters, copying what Mingyu had done exactly. The door opens, and he pushes it wider so they can go through.

“I heard that,” Mingyu singsongs, waltzing past and almost skipping to their usual corner.

“I know,” Wonwoo says, following on his heels. They settle against the wall the same way they’d sat down yesterday, putting their lunches on their laps. “I meant for you to hear it.”

Mingyu snorts. “Please, hyung, I’m the _furthest_  thing from a brat. If I were a brat, would I—” and Mingyu reaches into the bag he’d brought with him, pulling out a carton of strawberry milk, “get this for you?”

Wonwoo has to try hard to stifle a laugh, and even then, he doesn’t manage to muffle it all the way. “Are you ever going to stop bringing me milk? It’s not like I can’t feed myself, you know,” he says lightly.

“I know,” Mingyu shrugs. “But hey, you need that extra calcium, don’t you? You should try a bit harder to become taller.”

“Wow, this kid…” Wonwoo starts, trailing off once he realizes he doesn’t have anything to say in response, and Mingyu’s face breaks out into a triumphant grin. He shakes his head, taking the carton of milk from Mingyu’s hand and stabbing the plastic straw through the top. “Thanks, though.”

“Anytime, hyung,” Mingyu says. He hesitates just a second, his eyes straying to Wonwoo’s kimbap. “Can I…?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Wonwoo picks off a few pieces and hands them over to Mingyu, and he gets some beef and lettuce piled on his plastic wrap in return. “This is kinda fun.”

“What is?”

“This.” Wonwoo makes a vague sweeping gesture in the air above them, one that circles over their heads and their food laid out in front of them. “Like this. Eating together, sharing our food, stuff like this.” Wonwoo grins. “It’s really nice. I like it a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Mingyu replies, smiling a smile that makes Wonwoo feel like his stomach is lurching before he goes back to picking at his lettuce. “Oh no, the beef is a little overcooked today… I hope Minseo’s eating it alright in school…”

Meanwhile, Wonwoo tries to self-diagnose the weird feeling he’s been having recently. He presses the heel of his palm to his stomach, but the uneasy feeling doesn’t go away. Maybe it’s the kimbap, or maybe it’s the milk that’s making his body act up. He tries to surreptitiously check for the expiration date on the carton, but it’s a few months in the future, so Wonwoo squints at the kimbap. Maybe the pickled carrots went bad? But Mingyu doesn’t seem to be reacting badly to it. Maybe it’s just him. He’ll figure it out some other time.

They wrap up lunch just as the bell signaling five minutes left of the period rings out, and Mingyu pauses when Wonwoo gets to the second floor landing.

“This was fun, hyung. I really liked it, too.” Mingyu shifts, and this is the first time Wonwoo’s seen him so— uncomfortable? Vulnerable? Wonwoo doesn’t really know what to call it, but he knows that it’s an emotion that shouldn’t be written across Mingyu’s face. He almost steps forward before he stops himself, which ends up manifesting as a sort of forward jerky motion. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Wonwoo echoes, and he waves to Mingyu as he takes the stairs down to the first floor. He’s strangely absentminded the rest of the day, his mind starting to wander around during the last two periods of school. Jihoon gives him strange looks, but he doesn’t pay him any attention. He has a lot on his mind, from why his stomach is acting up to why Mingyu had looked almost _sad_  to what he’s going to talk about with Jeonghan later.

The bell marking the end of the school day rings out, and Wonwoo is out of the classroom in a flash, his backpack already packed and his books stowed safely away. He makes it to the student body clubroom on the third floor in what must be record time, skidding to a stop in front of the door. He pulls himself upright, breathing out evenly before he knocks.

Thankfully, a familiar face opens the door.

“Hi, Wonwoo,” Jeonghan, the student body— something, Wonwoo isn’t sure what Jeonghan does, except that he’s _always_  in the club room. Even when he’d had to ask Seungcheol things regarding his own duties as second year class vice president, he’d vaguely remembered Jeonghan always being somewhere in the background. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Jeonghan-hyung. Can I come in?” Wonwoo asks, and Jeonghan nods. He leads Wonwoo inside to a clearing with bean bags piled all around it, and they each take a bag to sit on.

“It’s just me right now, all by my lonesome,” Jeonghan sighs melodramatically. “Who were you looking for? Seungcheol? Doyoon? Jisoo? I can let them know that you’ve been looking for them if you want.”

“Actually,” Wonwoo starts, “I was looking for you.”

“Me?” Jeonghan’s gaze, usually placid, narrows. Wonwoo doesn’t think that he’d have noticed the change at all if he hadn’t been searching Jeonghan’s face for ay sign of emotion.

“Yeah.” Wonwoo swallows. “Hyung, this is kind of a weird question, and it’s okay if you don’t want to answer it, but did you date the first year Kim Mingyu before?”

Jeonghan stares at Wonwoo before he breaks out into bright peals of laughter. Wonwoo’s almost afraid that he’s offended Jeonghan somehow, but he stops laughing and leans against the wall. He speaks more slowly now, with the hint of a smile curving at his lips. “Yeah, I did. Are you interested?”

“Oh no,” Wonwoo blurts out. “I was just wondering for a friend— what kinds of things do you do with him? Like, during that week you were together?”

“Ooh, Jeon Wonwoo. I didn’t think you would know who he was. Is our upstanding young vice president looking for love?” The smile doesn’t leave Jeonghan’s lips. “I wonder what everyone would think about this?”

“Jeonghan-hyung, _please._ “

“Hmm, so you really want to know. Okay.” The curl of Jeonghan’s lips is chased away nearly instantly by something more serious. He starts drawing abstract patterns into the bean bag, the surface molding into whatever shape Jeonghan’s fingers direct them into. “I guess… he was a good guy. He was nice and everything. The perfect gentleman, really. He never did anything you didn’t want to, and he had his limits, too.”

“‘He never did anything you didn’t want to?’ What do you mean by that?” Wonwoo doesn’t want to think about the implications of that— if there are lines that he’s already crossed without knowing. But Mingyu would’ve told him already if he was uncomfortable with anything, right?

Jeonghan taps his chin, humming under his breath. “I don’t know why, but he wasn’t really big on things like hugging or holding hands with his dates. It was kind of weird, since I know he’s always really touchy feely with those other first year friends of his. And I know what your next question is gonna be, so I’ll just answer it now. There wasn’t even anything beyond that, no kissing, nothing more than that. We went on a date, and he was great. I didn’t let him pay for too much, since I’m older, you know? We split the bill for the dinner, and it was all really just normal stuff. Things like that.”

“What about meals during school and stuff? Did he give you food? Did you guys ever go out for lunch?”

“During school?” Jeonghan echoes. “Oh, we never met up at school. He was actually really conscientious about it. He didn’t want everyone at school to know who the person he was dating at the time, since he didn’t want to make others jealous or something. And because he really liked to keep whoever he was dating a secret, he tried not to meet up with people during school if he could. It was always after school, after all of our club meetings and his sports practices. He’s in the band club and swim team, so it was kind of hard to coordinate times to meet up.”

“You never met up for lunch here? Not even for like, a quick snack? Really?” Wonwoo’s head is practically spinning even though he tries not to show it. This goes almost completely counter to what he and Mingyu have done this entire week, with all of their lunches on the rooftop.

“Nah, never. Not even once during that entire week,” Jeonghan says almost dismissively. “Why? You interested? I heard he’s already taken for this week, though. Anyway, though, I wasn’t really surprised when he said he wanted to break up. Said he couldn’t fall in love with me, which I guess was to be expected. I’m not kidding, he’s a great guy and all, but I just didn’t feel that _spark_  with him. It was fun, though, I’ll always remember that week.”

“Hyung, I have just one more question, if that’s okay?”

“Shoot.”

“I heard you and Mingyu don’t really… talk anymore? Why, if you guys were okay during the relationship?”

Jeonghan hums. “Wonwoo, sometimes things just don’t work out. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend something never happened than to keep living in the past, and I guess it’s more convenient for the two of us to just act like we never dated. It’s what he usually does, anyway. I hope that doesn’t scare you off, though. He’s a really good person.”

Wonwoo’s stomach curls itself into a tight and uneasy knot, and he manages to stand and bow and say, “Thank you so much for telling me, Jeonghan-hyung, have a nice afternoon.”

He barely catches Jeonghan’s returning dismissal before he’s out the door and making his way out of the school building. He thinks back to all the lunches they’d shared on the rooftop, how Mingyu had said that it was their secret, and he wonders if Jeonghan is lying. He wonders if Jeonghan is just telling Wonwoo this because he doesn’t want Wonwoo to have unrealistic expectations, or if Jeonghan’s telling the truth and Mingyu doesn’t usually meet up with people during school even if he’s dating them.

As he passes the school gates, he notices that the pool is still brimming with noise. The swim team must be practicing for their meet this upcoming Friday, and Mingyu must still be there. He pauses just outside the gates to listen to the shouts of the coaches that manage to carry across such a far distance, and he wonders, for the first time, if there’s something that Mingyu isn’t telling him.

It’s alright. He can’t let himself keep thinking like this— he’ll just live each day as it happens. His mind made up, he slings his backpack more securely over his shoulders, and tossing one last look back at the pool, he starts to walk back home.

 

(four days remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa once again thank you to everyone who's giving this fic love ;u;


	4. thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13 july: jihoon decides that this entire thing isn't worth his time, mingyu just wants a pillow to sleep on, and wonwoo is probably royally fucked.

“Jeonghan-hyung told me you came to see him yesterday,” Jihoon says by way of greeting when Wonwoo slumps into his seat in the morning. “You’re really not as sneaky as you think you are.”

Wonwoo sticks his tongue out at Jihoon. Immature, he knows, but whatever. Jihoon started it. “Yeah, we had a really productive conversation yesterday. So interesting. So fun. I learned so much about everyone here.”

Jihoon wrinkles his entire face at Wonwoo, which Wonwoo hadn’t even thought possible until this very moment. Maybe Jihoon is just a spectacularly evolved human. “I’d ask, but I don’t think I really want to know.”

“Good choice,” Wonwoo says sagely before their homeroom teacher ambles into the room. There’s nothing much to do in class other than to listen to their teacher tell them about how the school festival is next friday, so Wonwoo lets his mind wander a bit.

He’s more than just a little curious about Mingyu. It makes no sense at all to him why someone like Mingyu, as tall and as handsome and as popular as he is, would need to do something like this. He’s certain that virtually anyone would leap at the chance to be with Mingyu. The question follows him even to lunch, even when he’s unpacking his box of rice and kimchi next to Mingyu.

“No kimbap today?” Mingyu asks, but Wonwoo doesn’t hear him, since he’s too absorbed in what he’s thinking on his own. There’s a honeydew melon milk balanced precariously on his knee when he looks up, and just next to that is Mingyu’s face peering into his. “What’s wrong, hyung?”

Wonwoo blinks. “Oh, nothing. I’m fine, sorry. I’m just a little bit distracted right now. Did you ask me something?”

“You’re not having kimbap for lunch today?” Mingyu pokes Wonwoo’s leg. “A won for your thoughts?”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says, and then he stops. He tries to think of all the things he can ask Mingyu now— _Was Jeonghan-hyung telling the truth? Was he lying when he said you don’t eat lunch with people you date here? If so, why am I here right now? What am I even supposed to do when I’m dating you? Do we hold hands? Do we hug? Do we kiss?_ — and he realizes he has too much to ask. There’s no way Mingyu can even process everything that Wonwoo has to say, much less answer them.

He could lie. He could lie and tell Mingyu that he’s been thinking about what he’s going to have for dinner tonight, or he could tell Mingyu that he’s been wondering what kinds of decorations they’re going to put up for next week’s festival. But Mingyu’s been nothing less than completely truthful with him so far, and he doesn’t deserve to be lied to. There are so many questions that Wonwoo wants to ask him, and even though he doesn’t know which one’s the most important, he knows which one he wants to start with.

“Mingyu, are we dating?”

It’s Mingyu’s turn to blink owlishly at Wonwoo, and when he lifts himself up from when he’s been trying to balance the melon milk on Wonwoo’s leg, it falls to the ground. Mingyu picks it up almost robotically, checking it over for bumps and scratches before he balances it on Wonwoo’s leg again. “Yeah, we are, hyung. Once again, you were the one who asked me. Why?”

There’s the slightest note of tension in Mingyu’s voice, and Wonwoo doesn’t pretend to know where it’s coming from. Maybe he doesn’t like things like this being questioned, or maybe it’s just a dumb question that he’s confused as to why he has to answer in the first place. Wonwoo doesn’t know why Mingyu is so suddenly tense, but what he _does_  know is that he can do something about it.

“If we’re dating, shouldn’t we go on a date?”

Mingyu blinks again, this time slower. He looks like he’s trying to process Wonwoo’s question, and Wonwoo is just about to ask him if he’s alright when he springs upright, his forehead nearly knocking into Wonwoo’s. “Let’s go, hyung!”

Momentarily startled by Mingyu’s sudden change of expression, Wonwoo pulls himself together in time to reach out and flick Mingyu on the forehead. “We’re at lunch right now, we can’t just _leave_.”

Mingyu sticks out his lower lip in a pout that somehow looks too familiar— when he’s this close to Wonwoo and pouting, he really reminds Wonwoo of a puppy looking for a treat.

“Do you have swim practice after school today?” Wonwoo asks, shifting so that he’s not as close as he was before. It’s not that he has anything against physical contact; it just fills him with all sorts of weird feelings that he doesn’t know how to name yet.

“I don’t today. Do you have any class vice president things to take care of?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo says. He does, actually, but Mingyu doesn’t need to know that. He’ll just ask Jihoon to take care of it for him; it’s just some ordering that needs to get done before the festival actually happens next week. “Do you want to grab something to eat after school, then?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Mingyu beams, and then he drops abruptly to the ground, his head landing squarely onto Wonwoo’s folded legs. Wonwoo stares down at him, and he doesn’t quite know where to put his hands— By his side? On Mingyu? Should he be patting Mingyu’s head?

As if he’s completely unaware of Wonwoo’s inner turmoil, which he probably is, Mingyu closes his eyes and mutters, “Hyung, your legs are a good pillow.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, your thighs are just soft. It’s a compliment, hyung, just take it.” Mingyu looks way too content just lying there. “Mine are too hard. Not soft at all.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes skyward, resisting the urge to push Mingyu off of his lap. “Are you really complimenting your own thighs? Don’t you have a lunch to eat?”

Mingyu cracks an eye open at him before the corners of his lips slide upwards in a small smile. “Will you feed me, hyung?”

Wonwoo actually _does_  push Mingyu off this time, sending him rolling onto the ground. Mingyu lies there, facedown and being overly dramatic, for longer than Wonwoo really thinks is necessary. “Feed yourself, Mingyu, that’s what you have hands and a mouth for.”

“So mean,” Mingyu mutters under his breath as he rolls over onto his back. Then he turns his head towards Wonwoo, and Wonwoo can tell by the look in his eyes that it’s not going to be anything Wonwoo particularly wants to hear. “But that’s what I like about you, hyung.”

It’s not even _that bad_ , but Wonwoo can feel himself flushing to the tips of his ears already, and before he knows it, he’s standing up and grabbing his food. “Kim Mingyu, you’re—” Incredible? Unbelievable? “You’re really something else,” Wonwoo finishes lamely. “I’ll see you later, you deviant.”

Mingyu’s yell of “I’m _not_  a deviant!” follows Wonwoo all the way down the stairs, and once again, he can’t stop himself from smiling all the way down. Even Soonyoung, who’s sitting in Wonwoo’s usual seat, gives him a sidelong glance tinged with suspicion.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” Soonyoung says, swirling his chopsticks through the noodles he’s brought for lunch today. “Decided to join us for lunch again?’

Wonwoo flops into the seat Soonyoung usually sits in, and he holds the melon milk up in the air, inspecting it from all angles. Mingyu’s too nice. Wonwoo should bring him something to drink next time. “Yeah, I thought I should bless you two with my presence today.”

When lunch wraps up, Soonyoung prods Wonwoo in the side. “Okay, so even though everyone and their mothers know you’re dating Mingyu, I know you’ll never admit it to me because he’s so far out of your league. But anyway, you should come see me perform at the festival next week. Bring him along, too, I promise it’ll be fun.”

Wonwoo squints at Soonyoung. “Promise you’re not going to drag me on stage again and make me do more embarrassing things?”

“Swear on Jihoon’s kindergarten serenade,” Soonyoung says sagely, placing a reverent hand over his chest, and Jihoon glowers at him over his rice. That’s good enough for Wonwoo, though.

“Okay, I’ll go. Next week?”

“Yep. Be there or be a fucking square, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung pats Wonwoo’s head on his way out of their classroom to go back to his, class goes by, the same as always, and Wonwoo nearly falls asleep during their last period. Finally, when math is over, Wonwoo feels like he can breathe again.

Except he remembers what he’s doing after school today, and the butterflies in his stomach start to act up again. He’s going on a _date_ , and it’s all he can think about when he descends the stairs to the first floor. Class 1-A is just around the corner, and when Wonwoo rounds it, he bumps squarely into someone’s side.

“Sorry,” Wonwoo says automatically before he lifts his head to see who it is, and when he does, he retracts it almost immediately. “nah, you deserve it. Let’s go, Mingyu.”

“I’m so hurt,” Mingyu whines, but he follows behind Wonwoo, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and jogging a little to keep up with Wonwoo’s strides. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“Ask yourself that question in the mirror and maybe you’ll find out what the answer is,” Wonwoo says. He stops in the middle of the hallway, making Mingyu bump into him, his chest colliding into Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Oh, where did you want to go?”

 _Where do you usually take your dates?_  is what Wonwoo wants to ask, but he can’t bring himself to. It seems wrong, somehow, to acknowledge that this isn’t the first time Mingyu’s done this, and the more Wonwoo thinks about it, the worse he feels.

“Um. I don’t know, anywhere you want to go is fine,” Mingyu says, his words trailing off at the end.

Wonwoo stares at him. He’s so _unhelpful_. “I know somewhere,” he announces, and when he starts walking again, Mingyu follows.

There’s a small shop downtown that Wonwoo likes. It’s a cozy place, one that’s run by an elderly couple, and it oozes warmth and familiarity from every corner. He’d used to go here all the time with his parents and brother when he was a lot younger, and if there’s anywhere he can think of that exemplifies comfort food, it’s here.

“Choose whatever you want,” Wonwoo says to Mingyu, who’s still studying the menu behind the counter. There are tables all around them, but Wonwoo wants to take these to go. There’s somewhere else he wants to go after this.

Mingyu taps his chin. “Have you ever had the seafood pancake? Is it good?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I don’t know, can’t eat it. Their kimchi pancake is pretty good, though, so I would think that the seafood pancake would be good, too.”

“Oh, hyung, you can’t eat seafood?”

“Hm, I’ve always had kind of a sensitive stomach. I’m kinda allergic to seafood, so I have to carry around some medication with me just in case.” Wonwoo snorts. “Soonyoung always says that he wants to be the one to stab me with a needle in case I ever eat seafood and have a bad reaction to it.”

“He sounds like a great friend,” Mingyu hums. “I’ll just have the bibimbap, then.”

“Okay.” When Mingyu steps up to order and pay, Wonwoo shoves him off to the side. “Hey, get out. I’m paying this time.”

Mingyu gives him the most kicked puppy expression Wonwoo’s ever seen a human make, and he laughs. “God, you should see your _face_  right now. You keep bringing me milk during lunch, so just let me pay for this.”

“But the milk is nothing!”

“But this is nothing!” Wonwoo echoes, and he takes out his wallet. “Shut up, I’m paying for your food.”

Mingyu sulks behind him while they wait for their food to come, and Wonwoo flicks him in the chest every so often, making him sulk even more. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just one meal,” Wonwoo says. “Are you really that upset about it?”

“Not really.” Mingyu purses his lips together. “Kinda just wanted to do stuff for you, but I guess this is nice too. Wonwoo-hyung is treating me this time,” he sings, a pleased grin on his face, and Wonwoo feels like he’d accept his fate happily if the earth just opened up to swallow him.

Thankfully, he’s rescued by the appearance of their food, his kimchi pancake in a takeout box and Mingyu’s bibimbap in a bowl. “It smells so good,” Mingyu says, lifting up the cap to smell the rice. “I could just smell this _forever_.”

Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, pushing the door open to leave. “Can you not? You’re supposed to eat it, not smell it.”

“Why not both? I can smell it and eat it later,” Mingyu says, grinning widely and following Wonwoo out. Somehow, he’s able to keep up with Wonwoo’s pace even as he’s breaking his chopsticks apart and eating his rice while walking.

“How are you doing that?” Wonwoo stares at Mingyu in between bites of his pancake.

“Doing what?” Mingyu asks, his mouth full of rice and beef and beansprouts.

“Eating while walking!”

“Oh, this.” Mingyu swallows the mouthful of food before he responds. “A man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do, hyung. Even if it means learning how to eat and walk at the same time. Anyway, where are we going next?”

“There’s a movie I’ve really been wanting to see,” Wonwoo explains. “I was going to force Soonyoung or Jihoon or my brother to come watch it with me, but since you’re here, we might as well go together.”

By the time they make it to the movie theater just a few blocks down, both their boxes are completely empty, save for some leftover grains of rice and bits and pieces of kimchi.

“This is what you wanted to see?” Mingyu asks, looking up at the poster for the featured movie. “A romantic movie?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo mutters. “Stop judging me.”

“Not judging you, hyung, I’m just a little surprised that you would like watching things like this.” Even though Wonwoo isn’t looking at Mingyu, he can hear the smile in his voice so, so clearly. Damn him.

Mingyu manages to beat Wonwoo to the punch this time, shoving his way in front of the line and paying for both of their tickets before Wonwoo can even say, “We’re not paying together, I want my own ticket, fuck you, Kim Mingyu.” As revenge, Wonwoo buys the biggest size of popcorn he can, as well as drinks for the two of them.

This is a movie that Wonwoo’s wanted to see for a long, long time. He’s read the book three times already, and he’s cried at the ending every single time. He knows the entire plot inside and out, and he could recite the most impactful quotes from memory. Wonwoo’s been looking forward to watching this movie and enjoying it and raving about it to all of his friends and family and anyone who will listen to him, and he’d thought that this would be the way to go.

Except when they leave the theater, all Wonwoo remembers is the way that Mingyu had reached for the popcorn at the same time Wonwoo had and the way that Mingyu’s hand had come to rest gingerly on Wonwoo’s. Even though he’d tensed up, he hadn’t pulled away, and Mingyu’s fingers had curled ever so gently around Wonwoo’s. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other for the rest of the movie, when before they’d been talking about the characters and what they thought the plot would end up being.

It’s all Wonwoo can think about now, the warmth of Mingyu’s hand against his as the characters on the silver screen professed their love to one another, and when he looks at Mingyu, all he knows is that he’s gotten himself into more than he can handle.

 

(three days remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa we're at the halfway point already you guys!!!! 8___8 just four days left!!!!! thanks to everyone who's been following and subscribing and commenting and leaving kudos ;__;


	5. friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14 july: wonwoo tries to figure out why he cares so much, bohyuk is surprisingly observant, and mingyu looks great dripping wet.

Wonwoo doesn’t sleep well that night. He replays the entire debacle of what had happened at the movie theater over and over in his head until he’s certain that he can pull the exact chain of events up from his memory. He’s not stupid. He knows that what he’s feeling now— what he’s been feeling for the past few days— is more than just friendship. It’s something that he doesn’t have the courage to put a name to yet.

It’s getting too dangerous, too risky, for Wonwoo to keep playing along. He doesn’t know why Mingyu is doing this in the first place, but Wonwoo doesn’t know if he can continue. Aside from short-lived crushes, this is the first time Wonwoo’s ever felt this way, and it hurts even more knowing that he only has until the end of this week with Mingyu.

He falls asleep uneasily, and his dreams are filled with things he can’t remember. All he knows is that he wakes up in a cold sweat, his blankets soaked around him, with his phone alarm blaring noisily and incessantly in his ear.

Wonwoo blinks. It’s the first time this week he hasn’t been woken up by the familiar sound of a text notification, and when he rolls over to check his phone, it’s exactly seven. There aren’t any texts flashing on his screen, and even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s a little bit concerned at the lack of a text, a feeling he almost immediately dismisses.

He and Mingyu aren’t _married_  or anything, Mingyu doesn’t have to send him good morning texts if he doesn’t want to or if he’s too sleepy in the morning to. But still, Wonwoo wonders why he feels like there’s something missing in his life when he doesn’t wake up to an annoying chirpy _good morning!_  thirty minutes before he’s even supposed to get up.

Bohyuk stares at him over the breakfast table again, and Wonwoo gives him just a glance before sliding into his seat. “What?”

“Nothing, hyung.” Bohyuk’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you think something’s wrong?”

Bohyuk frowns. “You don’t look happy anymore.”

Bohyuk’s words play over and over again in his head as he walks to school like a broken radio. If he really thinks about it, Bohyuk is right— he’s been happier this week with Mingyu than he has this entire school year.

He’s distracted throughout most of class as well, with Jihoon mercifully holding back any scathing insults he probably has ready on the tip of his tongue. When lunch starts, he pulls out his phone to send a quick message.

_12:32 jeon wonwoo: hey mingyu_  
_12:32 jeon wonwoo: are you okay?_

“Jeon Wonwoo,” he hears suddenly, and he closes his phone and looks up. It’s Soonyoung, hovering above him with a concerned look on his face, which makes Wonwoo plaster on his usual blank expression as quickly as he can. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Wonwoo says for the second time today, exasperated out of his mind. “I’m fine, seriously.”

“Did something happen?” Soonyoung presses on, taking the seat next to Wonwoo’s and leaning closer. “You can tell us.”

“ _Nothing happened_ ,” Wonwoo says a bit more forcefully this time. “Everything’s okay.”

“Then why are you here?” Jihoon asks, sipping on his yogurt drink and leveling a glance at Wonwoo. “You weren’t here literally this entire week. What happened?”

“Nothing did,” Wonwoo says. “I’m done talking about this, can we just eat?”

He turns his attention to the food in front of him, and he pretends not to notice the way Jihoon and Soonyoung exchange looks over his head. It should really be a delicious lunch, with his mom knowing exactly what he likes and in what ratios, but it tastes surprisingly bland and boring today.

As the lunch period wraps up, Wonwoo feels a buzz against his leg, and he picks up faster than he’s willing to admit.

_12:58 kim mingyu: hi hyung_  
_12:58 kim mingyu: sorry for not responding, i got super busy today_  
_12:58 kim mingyu: i have swim practice later too_  
_12:59 kim mingyu: sorry_

_It’s okay_ , Wonwoo types back. _Take all the time you need._

Mingyu sends a sticker with a dog making a heart in return, and Wonwoo finds himself smiling down at his phone. Then a thought hits him: if he doesn’t see Mingyu today, is the week over already? Will he not be able to see Mingyu again after this? Judging by the way Mingyu’s conducted himself this week, Wonwoo’s deduced that Mingyu doesn’t keep in contact with people he used to go out with, and Wonwoo isn’t nearly delusional to think that he’s the only exception to the rule.

It’s why, when the last bell rings, Wonwoo is out of his seat and making his way up to the room reserved for the student body. As the vice president of his class, he counts as a member, so he pushes the door open like he owns the place.

“If you’re looking for him, Jeonghan’s not here,” Seungcheol, the class president of the third years, calls out from where he’s hunched over a long table, probably finalizing details for the festival next week.

“Oh, I’m not looking for him. Thanks, though, hyung,” Wonwoo says absently, flipping through some yearbooks. He goes through the pages until he finds what he’s looking for— photos of Mingyu in the swim club and in the band club. There’s a picture of him holding a bass guitar, and even though he looks inexperienced, he’s clearly passionate.

He runs his finger down the page, staring at the black and white photos of Mingyu when he’d first entered the school. Wonwoo’s going to figure out why Mingyu does this, even if it takes him forever. He needs answers. He puts the yearbooks back into their rightful place on the shelf, and slinging his backpack onto his shoulders again, he gets ready to leave.

Except when he’s right by the school gates, he hears the telltale sounds of water splashing and sharp whistles. The swim club is practicing, and even though Wonwoo tells his feet to go home, he finds himself moving almost on autopilot to the pool.

Mingyu is exponentially more graceful in the water than he is on land. When he’s standing up, he’s always falling and dropping things, always clumsy around fragile things. But when he’s in the water, his arms coming up with every stroke and his legs sliding through the water with seemingly minimal effort, he’s _incredible_.

Wonwoo could watch him forever— and he does, taking a seat on the bleachers with some other students, maybe swim club hopefuls, maybe fans. He watches their entire practice, from laps to more competitive time trials, and he doesn’t think Mingyu sees him at all, so he turns to leave once the swimmers have all been dismissed.

“Wonwoo-hyung.”

Speak of the devil.

“Hi, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says lightly.

“What are you doing here?” Mingyu asks, and Wonwoo tries not to look at anywhere below his neck. He’s standing there in front of Wonwoo, shirtless, with water making its way down his neck and shoulders and chest in long rivulets, and his swim shorts cling to his thighs in places they really shouldn’t be.

“I just wanted to see you practice,” Wonwoo replies, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound as high as it does in his head.

“You didn’t have to come today,” Mingyu says.

“I wanted to, though.”

Mingyu exhales, and he runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back. “Hyung, you really—” he sighs again, this time louder, before he shakes his head. “Hey hyung, are you free tomorrow?”

Wonwoo blinks at the sudden change of topic. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Do you want to come over to my place? I’ll make it up to you for missing lunch today. And we can watch another movie or something if you want.”

“Yeah, of course,” Wonwoo says, still trying to process just what the fuck happened.

They stand there like that, unmoving and unblinking, until the swim coach’s voice pierces the air and Mingyu turns. He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze still turned away from Wonwoo. “Sorry, hyung, I gotta go. I’ll text you the details, okay? I can come pick you up if you’d like.”

“Nah, I think I’ll be fine. I didn’t survive this long for nothing, right?”

Mingyu actually turns back again at that, a grin blooming across his face, and Wonwoo feels like his heart is about to shatter into a million pieces. “okay, hyung. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

When Wonwoo finally gets to walk home, it’s with a weight on his shoulders that hadn’t been there in the morning, and even though he’s answered one question of where Mingyu’s been all day, it feels like a dozen more have popped up in his place.

It’s no problem, though. He’ll get the answers he wants out of Mingyu. He definitely will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cries thank you for 100 kudos!!!! ♡ sorry about the short chapter this time, pls anticipate tomorrow's hehe ;_____; oo i wonder what's up w mingyu???


	6. saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15 july: minseo accidentally leaks a secret, mingyu reveals one of his, and wonwoo keeps his own guarded.

Mingyu lives a bus station stop down from Wonwoo. The address is easy enough to input into his phone, and Wonwoo finds himself checking his phone every few steps just to make sure he knows where he is even though he knows for sure where he is. He’s just nervous, and he stops in the middle of the street to just breathe. He looks down at his phone again, the messages from last night still up on his screen.

_23:19 kim mingyu: hi hyung_  
_23:19 kim mingyu: sorry for not being around earlier today :(_  
_23:19 kim mingyu: i’ll make it up to you!!!_  
_23:20 kim mingyu: i can make you lunch or something_  
_23:20 kim mingyu: if you want to come over?_  
_23:35 jeon wonwoo: yeah that sounds good_  
_23:35 jeon wonwoo: what time?_  
_23:35 jeon wonwoo: should i bring something?_  
_23:37 kim mingyu: just bringing yourself is enough for me, hyung~_

That’s what Mingyu had said, but Wonwoo has a six-pack of banana milk and a bag of lychee jellies in his backpack. There’s no way he’s showing up to Mingyu’s place empty handed, especially not when he’s being invited over for food. There’s a buzz in Wonwoo’s pocket, and he pulls his phone out to see several messages from Soonyoung, all coming in quick succession one after another.

_11:40 haemjji: yo where r u guys_  
_11:40 haemjji: do u wanna get food_  
_11:40 haemjji: @ wonu bc our lil troll doll is prob sleeping_

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, moving to the side of the road to let other passersby walk past as he types out a response.

_11:41 jeonha: no_  
_11:42 haemjji: y_  
_11:42 haemjji: do u hate me_  
_11:42 haemjji: or is it bc im me_  
_11:43 haemjji: would u want to get lunch w me_  
_11:43 haemjji: if i were a hot tall cute first year_  
_11:44 haemjji: named kim mimgyu_  
_11:44 haemjji: *mingyu_  
_11:44 haemjji: ;—))))))_  
_11:45 jeonha: ._  
_11:45 haemjji: so thats a yes_  
_11:45 jeonha: ._  
_11:46 haemjji: u r such a cradlerobber_  
_11:46 haemjji: im calling the cops on u_  
_11:46 jeonha: ._  
_11:47 uri jihoonie: shut the fuck up you children_  
_11:47 uri jihoonie: i’m trying to sleep_  
_11:47 uri jihoonie: you’re all dead_

Wonwoo gulps and puts his phone away again, ignoring the buzzes that come right after that. Jihoon doesn’t take lightly to being waken up anytime before twelve on weekends, and there’s zero doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that the first thing Jihoon’s going to do on Monday morning is to grab Wonwoo’s arm and twist. Wonwoo only hopes that Jihoon will be merciful.

It’s easy to decipher to directions to Mingyu’s house once he’s not distracted with Jihoon and Soonyoung and their early morning antics, and before he knows it, he’s standing in front of Mingyu’s home, a small and nondescript apartment. He doesn’t know if he should knock on the door or not, so he settles for just texting Mingyu and letting him know that he’s here.

He watches as the message status changes from delivered to read, and then there’s a series of quick footsteps and the door is opening in front of him. Instead of Mingyu, though, Wonwoo looks down to see a girl with long dark hair and big eyes.

“Hi! I’m Minseo, Mingyu-oppa’s in the kitchen. He told me to open the door for you,” she chirps, and leads him through the door and into the hallway. “Oppa! Your friend is here!”

“Okay!” Mingyu appears from the kitchen doorway just a second later, wiping his hands on a washcloth. He’s clad in just a worn t-shirt with plaid shorts underneath, and Wonwoo realizes two things: first, that he isn’t as underdressed as he thought he would be, and second, that it’s the very first time that he’s seen Mingyu outside of school. With that realization, the atmosphere suddenly starts to feel different somehow, like he’s walking past a line that Mingyu’s drawn between his personal and his school lives.

The smell wafting through the air is tantalizing, though, and without even noticing it, he takes unconscious steps towards the kitchen. “What are you making, Mingyu?” Wonwoo asks, trying to peer around Mingyu’s shoulder at the pots and pans on the stove.

“Ah, hyung, I’ll show you when I’m done! The living room is just around the corner, you can put your bag down there. I’ll be done real fast, just give me a few minutes, okay?” Mingyu stands there in the doorway until Wonwoo acquiesces and trudges towards the living room.

Minseo is there, doodling on a notepad in the middle of the coffee table, and she looks up when Wonwoo sits down. “Hi!”

“Hey, Minseo. I’m Wonwoo, your brother’s— friend.” If Minseo notices the pause in Wonwoo’s words, she doesn’t show it at all, continuing to shade in some finer details in her picture.

“Oh, really? Mingyu-oppa doesn’t really tell me about his friends. He _never_  brings any of his friends here,” Minseo huffs. “You’re the first one!”

Wonwoo’s heart does a strange lurch in the middle of his chest. He’s the first person Mingyu’s brought home? Even including Mingyu’s not date but regular type of friends? Hearing that from Minseo doesn’t just make him feel elated at being the first one— it makes him feel uneasy beyond measure, and he realizes that he knows next to nothing about Mingyu.

He knows that Mingyu is in class 1-A. He knows that Mingyu is in both the swim team and the band club, and that he plays the bass guitar. He knows that Mingyu is tall and handsome, the universal object of adoration in their school. He knows that Mingyu goes out with anyone who asks him first for just a week, only to break up with them after the week is over. He knows that Mingyu is good at cooking and that he has a little sister in elementary school named Minseo. But other than that, Wonwoo knows next to nothing about Mingyu.

“Oppa!” Minseo says suddenly, snapping Wonwoo out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see Mingyu standing there.

“Hey, Minseo. Hi, Wonwoo-hyung.” Mingyu folds his hands in front of him, and in a deeply exaggerated version of what he’s probably seen in dramas, he bows. “Your food is ready.”

“Oppa,” Minseo says, grabbing her notebook and throwing it into a small cloth satchel on the ground. “I’m going to Jieun’s house. She lives next to the ahjumma who likes to sing while doing laundry. You know her, right? We have to watch some movies she recorded together.”

“Okay,” Mingyu allows. “But don’t be out for too long, alright? I’ll call Jieun’s parents if you’re not home by five. Do you want anything to eat before you go?”

“Nooo,” Minseo draws out the vowels as long as she can as she hops and skips to the door, toeing on her shoes. “Jieunie says she’ll have some pizza for us, so you don’t have to worry. Bye, Mingyu-oppa! Bye, Wonwoo-oppa!”

A swish of her skirt and her long pigtails, and Minseo is gone, the door slamming shut behind her. It’s just him and Mingyu now, and Wonwoo has never been more acutely aware of his own breathing before now.

“So what did you make?” Wonwoo asks, trying to distract himself from the fact that he and Mingyu are alone— that they’re alone in Mingyu’s house.

“Do you want to come see?” There’s absolutely no way Wonwoo could say no, not when Mingyu is looking like that, all expectant and bouncing on his toes. “It’s good, I promise.”

Wonwoo follows Mingyu into the kitchen, where Mingyu’s already portioned out the dish he made into smaller bowls. It looks like pasta with a white sauce, and even though it looks simple, it smells amazing. “Did you make this all yourself?”

Mingyu practically puffs up with pride. “Yeah. It’s a simple fettucine alfredo with chicken.” His voice gets a little bit softer, and he looks down into Wonwoo’s eyes. “I would’ve made it with shrimp, but I remembered that you can’t eat seafood, so here we are.”

Wonwoo can’t look away. There’s just so much emotion in Mingyu’s gaze, so much that Wonwoo thinks that even if he spends the rest of eternity trying to figure out what exactly every single quirk of Mingyu’s lips and every single sparkle of his eyes means, it still won’t be enough time. He swallows. “Thank you, Mingyu. I really appreciate it.” He forces himself to look away, and he can almost swear that he hears a sigh. He doesn’t know if it’s from himself or Mingyu. “Let’s eat before it gets cold, then. It looks delicious.”

They carry the bowls to the coffee table in the living room, and this is definitely not what Wonwoo had expected when Mingyu asked him to come over for food. He’d expected them to make sandwiches together, or to heat up some soup, not to be sitting around a table eating Mingyu’s homemade pasta. Wonwoo’s socked feet knock against Mingyu’s as they’re trying to fit themselves and their legs around the table, and Wonwoo winces. With Mingyu in the clothes he’d clearly worn to sleep last night and Wonwoo in the same, it feels too domestic, and he doesn’t know how he feels about this.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo pulls out his cartons of banana milk and the bag of jellies from his backpack, and Mingyu nearly flips over the table with the way he drops his head onto his arms, laughing.

“Hyung, I told you that you didn’t have to bring anything! Seriously! Do you ever listen?”

“I couldn’t have my underclassman showing me up now, could I? Banana milk is obviously just a half step lower than homemade fettucine alfredo with chicken. Obviously.”

Mingyu’s still grinning from ear to ear when he takes one of the cartons from Wonwoo’s hands. “We can leave the jellies for dessert later, but for now, let’s eat!”

They eat in silence, the stillness punctuated by Mingyu asking if the food is good and then by Wonwoo replying that yes, for the seventh time, it’s delicious. It really is, though, and that’s the reason Wonwoo doesn’t really feel like talking much. He likes to savor his meals, rather than to talk too much while eating, and he wants to savor this meal especially. He just wants Mingyu to cook for him forever, but a small voice in the back of his head reminds him, unhelpfully, that _your week is almost up_.

Wonwoo shakes his head jerkily out of nowhere, as if he can get rid of the offending thought just by shaking it out, and he eats quicker and quicker until pretty much all of the noodles are gone and only sauce remains at the bottom of his bowl. Mingyu stares at him from across the table.

“Hyung,” Mingyu asks, wide-eyed, and Wonwoo can see that Mingyu’s barely halfway done. “Did you even eat breakfast today?”

Wonwoo tries to think. “Um, no. But I only ate fast because your pasta was really good!”

Mingyu tuts and grabs Wonwoo’s bowl from him before he disappears into the kitchen. He reappears moments later with Wonwoo’s bowl filled up again, smiling broadly. “I got you more food, hyung. You can stop eating whenever you want, but I just made so much and I don’t want to waste it, so it’s good that you came along with an empty stomach.”

Wonwoo takes longer this time to finish the second bowl, and by the time he’s done, Mingyu’s done with another one as well. He watches as Mingyu leans back against the side of the couch, patting his stomach. “Well, I’ll go put these in the sink now,” Mingyu announces, and Wonwoo takes his bowl and chopsticks before Mingyu can get to them. Mingyu gives him a long and exasperated stare. “Hyung, _why_  are you like this?”

“I’ll help you wash it,” Wonwoo says. “I can’t have you be doing all the work around here.”

“Fine, have it your way,” Mingyu sniffs, but there’s the barest hint of a smile playing at the edges of his lips. Wonwoo follows Mingyu to the sink, and their hips bump against each other when Mingyu reaches over to grab the dirty pots and pans. Wonwoo washes the dishes down with soap and water while Mingyu rinses them off and puts them back into the drying racks. Once that’s done, Mingyu puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head to the side. “Hyung, what do you want to do now?”

Wonwoo shrugs. He hasn’t really thought this far in advance, since he’d been expecting to just go home after lunch. “I don’t know, do you want to watch a movie or something? What’s good?”

Mingyu mirrors his action, shrugging as well. “Is there anything you want to see?”

“Not really,” Wonwoo says, then he remembers something. “Oh, one of my friends said there’s this one disaster movie about a tsunami hitting the beach in Haeundae or something? It’s supposed to be good, do you want to give it a try?”

“Yeah, sure. I can put it on my laptop if you want to wait in the living room?” At Wonwoo’s nod, Mingyu leaves to go back to his room so he can grab his laptop. He reappears in the doorway, holding his laptop, and he slides into the spot next to Wonwoo on the floor. They’re just leaning against the side of the couch like before and then propping the laptop up on the table, since it’s a bit easier than hooking the laptop up to the television.

Mingyu finds the movie without any difficulty, and honestly, it’s _boring_. Wonwoo has no idea if it was intentionally this bad, but he just can’t bring himself to keep his eyes open any longer. Halfway through, he very nearly falls asleep, and that’s when he reaches forward to pause the movie.

“Was it bad for you too, or am I just imagining it?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu heaves a loud sigh of relief. Wonwoo ducks his head and pulls out his phone to send Soonyoung a quick text— _kwon soonyoung you fucker i hate you for making me watch that shitty movie_ — and looks back up at Mingyu when he’s done.

“It wasn’t just you, I’m so glad it wasn’t just me. Let’s just never talk about this again.” Mingyu exits the browser with the movie playing on it, and he turns to Wonwoo. “What should we do next?”

Wonwoo has a couple of things on his mind. First off, he’s going to call Soonyoung and ask him why the fuck he recommended that movie to him when all it’s done is waste an entire precious hour of his time. Second, he’s going to write up a scathing review of the movie he’d only watched half of and then file it away in his laptop where no one will see it. Third, he’s going to—

And then he doesn’t get to finish his thought.

“Wonwoo-hyung,” Mingyu says, and his voice is lower than it had been just seconds ago, and Wonwoo’s heart leaps into his chest. “Do you remember the day I said I couldn’t sleep? When I called you and you yelled at me for waking you up?”

Wonwoo winces. He remembers that day as clearly as the lunch he’s just had with Mingyu. “Ah, yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had a nightmare—”

“Hyung, I already told you. It wasn’t a nightmare,” Mingyu says, and it isn’t just Wonwoo’s imagination that Mingyu’s leaning closer and closer to him, pressing him further and further into the couch behind him. “I dreamt about you.”

He can _feel_  his heartbeat thundering in his ears, its frantic staccato rhythm nearly deafening. It’s starting to all make sense now. Mingyu is just a breath away from Wonwoo, and as Mingyu closes his eyes, Wonwoo bridges the space between them.

“Hyung,” Mingyu whispers against Wonwoo’s lips, “I—”

“I know,” Wonwoo murmurs, even though he doesn’t know, not really, what Mingyu was going to say, and he kisses Mingyu again.

Mingyu slips his hands underneath Wonwoo’s shirt— it’s just a thin cotton one, the kind that’s perfect for enduring the summer heat, except now, Wonwoo thinks that nothing could make him feel more on fire than the drag of Mingyu’s fingers against his stomach. Wonwoo doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he settles for reaching upward to tangle his fingers in Mingyu’s hair. He tugs, experimentally, and then Mingyu _moans_  into the kiss. The sound alone sends all sorts of sensations up and down Wonwoo’s nerves, and he shivers.

Mingyu’s fingers play across Wonwoo’s stomach, leaving trails of electricity wherever he touches, and with every brush of Mingyu’s fingers against Wonwoo’s skin, he feels himself falling just a little bit more. Wonwoo cups Mingyu’s face, his fingers tracing Mingyu’s jawline, and he wonders how he was ever this lucky.

Then a sound, sharp and shrill, breaks the relative silence, and Wonwoo pulls away from Mingyu so quickly that his head starts spinning. He takes his phone out of his pocket, and he resists the urge to throw it against the wall once he sees the caller id: _shitface soonyoungie_. He knows that if he doesn’t pick it up, Soonyoung is only going to keep calling until he does, so he sighs and swipes his finger across the screen.

“What?”

“You’re so _dumb_ , Wonwoo, i can’t believe you actually watched the movie!” Soonyoung cackles. “That’s an hour of your life you’ll never get back!”

“God, I hate you, I want those entire sixty minutes back. I’ll never have them again. I want a refund.”

“I can’t get you a refund, but I can get you free tickets to my team’s performance at the festival. I’ll get you two, yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Wonwoo says as cheerfully as he can before hanging up. He stares at his phone for just a second before he looks up at Mingyu, and then he’s speechless. Mingyu’s hair is wildly tousled, a far cry from the usual neat and attractive chaos it’s usually styled in, and his lips are redder now, shinier now. Wonwoo had been the one to leave those marks on Mingyu, to be the one to make him look like this, and that thought fills him with a thrill like no other.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, and his voice is still so unbelievably low. He reaches up to pat his hair, and Wonwoo nearly loses it when he sees the expression of sheer confusion written on Mingyu’s face. “Who was that?”

“Just Soonyoung.” Wonwoo shrugs, then a thought comes to him. “Hey, Mingyu, are you free next week during the school festival? Soonyoung’s dance team is doing a performance, and he wants me to come watch him dance. Do you want to come with?”

“Next week?” Mingyu asks, his lips pressing together into a thin line. He swallows, and his expression smooths out into something guarded. “But… next week, I can’t— I don’t know if I can.”

The question “but _why_?” is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue before he realizes exactly why. His week with Mingyu ends in a day, and in a week, someone else will be with Mingyu. Someone else is going to be the one next to Mingyu’s side, and it’s not going to be Wonwoo. Of course. It was stupid of him to ever _hope_ , to think that he could ever start anything with Mingyu when the entire reason they’d met was this entire week long dating thing.

“Never mind,” Wonwoo mutters, and he gets up off of the floor abruptly. He grabs his backpack, slinging it on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I forgot I had something to do, thanks for the lunch, Mingyu, it was really good.”

As he lets himself out of the apartment, a strange prickling feeling at the corners of his eyes, he pretends not to see the way Mingyu watches him leave, still with that same unreadable expression on his face he’d had before, just as he pretends that his heart isn’t breaking with every step he takes away from the one who’s managed to make it his in the span of just a week.

 

(one day remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)


	7. sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16 july: mingyu has some things to say, and surprise surprise, wonwoo does, too.

Wonwoo doesn’t sleep well that night at all. He tosses and turns in his sleep, jolting himself awake every so often, and it’s when the sun starts to peek above the horizon that Wonwoo decides to just get up. At six in the morning, his phone buzzes with a notification.

Wonwoo stares at the banner flashing across his phone screen— it’s an absurdly late (or absurdly early, Wonwoo’s can’t decide which) hour, but here Mingyu is, messaging him. He watches as the notifications appear, stacking on top of one another, and even though he’s already told himself that he won’t read the messages until it’s no longer obvious that he hasn’t been sleeping at all, he still reads the previews that show up.

_06:35 kim mingyu: wonwoo-hyung_  
_06:35 kim mingyu: i need to talk to you_  
_06:35 kim mingyu: can we meet up today at noon on the roof?_

Wonwoo stares at the ceiling. He’s not _stupid_. He knows Mingyu only wants him to go up there so he can break up with him. He knows he’s going to hear the words that Jeonghan had heard, that so many other people before him had heard— “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.” What he doesn’t know, though, is why he feels so _calm_  about it.

He doesn’t have an answer for how his heart skips a beat whenever he sees a notification that Mingyu’s messaged him. He doesn’t have an answer for why his mouth goes dry when Mingyu turns to smile at him. He doesn’t have an answer for everything that had happened last afternoon, and he wonders if Mingyu does.

He wonders if Mingyu’s content to write it off as a mistake or as an accident that never should’ve happened, or if Mingyu feels the same way Wonwoo does— if Mingyu lies awake at night with Wonwoo’s face at the forefront of his thoughts, if Mingyu wakes up from dreams with Wonwoo’s name on his lips, if Mingyu thinks of Wonwoo the same way Wonwoo thinks of Mingyu.

Wonwoo knows that he’s not an easy person to love. Soonyoung tells him that he’s like a rose— that he’s nice to look at on the outside, but when anyone tries to get close to him, they’ll be burned by his thorns. Wonwoo doesn’t think that Soonyoung’s wrong. He’s heard this from so many people before, that his personality is just _bad_ , that he tries too hard to be funny when he’s really not, that people are turned off of him by how large the gap between his looks and his real personality is. Wonwoo wonders if Mingyu thinks of him that way as well.

He drifts back to sleep, half-formed thoughts meandering lazily through his mind, and the next time he opens his eyes, it’s just a quarter until noon. _Fuck_.

Wonwoo gets dressed in record time, and even though he knows it’s going to be a breakup, he wants to look good for it. He’s wasting time the more he stares at his closet, though, so he just grabs the cleanest looking pair of non-uniform clothes he can find before he toes on his shoes and sprints out the door. The school is usually a fifteen minute walk, so when Wonwoo runs, it’s cut almost in half. By the time he reaches the school gates, panting heavily, he has just a few minutes left until noon, but those are all that he needs.

The school is open on weekends if any sports teams want to practice or if any clubs need to use their reserved rooms for events, and Wonwoo takes full advantage of that, pushing the gates open and letting himself in. He takes the stairs two at a time, and right as he pushes the button in and twists the handle in the opposite direction, Wonwoo takes a second to just _breathe_. A week is over, but just like Jeonghan had said, he’ll move on. It’s fine. He’ll move on.

Then he pushes the door open.

It’s windy up this high, and Wonwoo’s hair whips around his face as the door slams shut behind him. There’s just one other person on the rooftop, and when Wonwoo takes a step closer, the figure, who’s been standing near the walls of the rooftop, turns.

“Hi, hyung,” Mingyu says. He’s dressed simply, just a t-shirt and dark wash jeans, and Wonwoo thinks he looks amazing. He looks down at his watch. “it’s noon. You’re here.”

“I am,” Wonwoo acknowledges. He takes a step, two steps, as many as he needs closer to Mingyu until he’s standing barely three steps away. When he’s this close, he knows Mingyu can see the shadows under Wonwoo’s eyes that are nearly the exact same as the ones underneath Mingyu’s eyes.

“I asked you to come here because I had something to tell you.”

“You did.”

“I’ll tell you everything, I swear, hyung, but first, do you have any questions for me?”

Wonwoo swallows. This is his chance, his only chance, to figure out Mingyu’s secret. “Why, Mingyu? Why do you do this every week? What do you have to gain from it?”

“Do you really want to know?” At Wonwoo’s nod, Mingyu’s mouth twists into a crooked smile, one that sends ice down Wonwoo’s spine. “I’ll tell you then, hyung.”

Wonwoo listens.

“When I first entered this school, there was this one assembly that everyone here had to go to. I remember it because I _hated_  it. I didn’t want to go at all. All of my friends and I were so determined to skip it, but then I found out literally the day before that I was chosen as a class rep. My grades weren’t the best, and I wasn’t really involved in clubs at the time, so I guess they only really chose me because of my face.” Mingyu sighs. “So that was even worse. I _had_  to go to this stupid assembly, and then my friends found out there was no way we could skip it since our homeroom teachers were taking attendance at the beginning.

The assembly? What does that have to do with anything? Wonwoo’s brain kicks so quickly into overdrive trying to figure out what assemblies have to do with dating when Mingyu starts talking again.

“Then I found out it wasn’t as boring as I thought it would be. I saw someone who was just so incredible I couldn’t keep my eyes off of that person. Even after the assembly ended, I kept thinking about that person. I couldn’t even focus in school, I was thinking about that person so much. I found out what class that person was in, and I kept thinking of ways to get closer to that person. But they already had their own group of friends, so I thought they didn’t need me in their life.”

“That sounds like a really shitty person,” Wonwoo says. He can’t imagine what kind of person would be that dense. He’s glad that Mingyu’s telling him this story, though— it’s helping him get his mind off of what’s about to come.

Mingyu smiles, wry and pinched. “I don’t know if you’ll be saying that when I’m done, though. Anyway, thinking about that person became such a distraction that one of my friends suggested that I try something out. He said that I should probably try to date people, you know? Get out there and try to figure out what kind of people I like instead of being hung up on a face for so long. And that’s what I did. With a nice face like yours and mine, it’s not hard to get love confessions, and, well, long story short, I went out the first person who asked me out. She was nice, but her personality wasn’t the type I was looking for, so I broke up with her.”

His gaze turns downward, his eyes shadowed. “But then it started becoming a thing. People would go out with me for the novelty of it all when I was just trying to find someone I really clicked with. Here I was, pouring my entire heart out to them, and they just treated it as a game. They would go out to dinner with me just to get a free meal, and sometimes, they’d even try to kiss me when I didn’t want them to. They thought I was easy just because I said yes to them. Some people were definitely nicer about it, and some of them seemed actually genuine. Your friend, Jeonghan-hyung, he was nice to me, but others weren’t the same.”

“So that’s where it all started,” Wonwoo says quietly, and Mingyu nods.

“It’s been happening like this ever since the beginning of the school year. Every week, a new person. Every week, someone different to break up with. It was okay. I was actually thinking about stopping this. I was just so tired of having to pretend to be someone that everyone I dated thought I was. They expected me to be like a prince, someone who could sweep them off their feet and bring them to a whole new world, but I really wasn’t like that. I’m not like that. And then you came along.”

“Me?”

Mingyu sighs and looks into the distance at a point somewhere behind Wonwoo’s head. “You came outside and you saw me and then we started talking. That’s when I decided that even if you thought I was kidding, I was going to treat it as the real deal. I know you probably thought it was a joke at first, but I took it more seriously that I take my college entrance exam practices. You were funny and articulate and everything that I had ever hoped for and more, and that’s why.”

“That’s why, what?”

“That’s why I have to break up with you, hyung. You were that person.”

Wonwoo’s heart stops beating. “ _What_?” He chokes out. “ _Me_?”

Mingyu smiles again, that same pinched smile from before. “Hyung, I can’t keep acting like I don’t like you. You were all I thought about, and when you asked me out, it felt like a dream come true. I can’t do it anymore, though. Thank you for this week, though. It was fun to pretend like I was dating you for real. But I just can’t act like this, and I can’t keep being friends with you now that you know everything. I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo’s head is still spinning, trying to process this. It makes sense now, why Mingyu had acted so differently around him than around his other dates, why Mingyu had seemed so eager to say yes, why Mingyu had invited him over to his house when he hadn’t done the same for anyone else. Then he realizes what he has to do. “Mingyu, wait!”

Mingyu stops talking, and his face takes on a look of confusion. “What, hyung?”

“You didn’t even consider what I felt. All of this talk about feelings and your poor heart, and not _once_  did you ask me what I felt.” Wonwoo takes a purposeful step forward, his eyes locked with Mingyu’s. “Did you even once stop to consider that I might feel the same way you do?”

Mingyu laughs, a sharp and cutting sound. “Don’t be like this, hyung. It really isn’t funny. Now, why don’t you just let me get on with my life and we can both pretend this didn’t happen?”

“That’s the thing!” The words explode out of him. He’s been waiting and waiting to say this for so long. “I _can’t_  pretend this didn’t happen! I _can’t_  just pass you by in the hallway and not even say hi to you! That’s not something that I’m willing to do, believe it or not. I fucking like you, Kim Mingyu, and I’m not going to let you walk away like that!”

The last sentence rips out of his throat, and he stands there, gasping for breath as his chest heaves. Mingyu’s eyes are wide and his jaw is open and slack and he looks like he’s just seen a ghost. Wonwoo balls up his fist and takes another step closer to Mingyu and he whispers, “Please, Mingyu, listen to what I have to say.”

“Hyung,” Mingyu chokes out, raw and vulnerable, and his eyes are bright. “I—”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo says abruptly. “When does the week end?”

“What?” The look of confusion on Mingyu’s face disappears almost as quickly as it had come. “It ends whenever you want it to.”

Wonwoo hums, taking a look down at his watch. It’s a quarter after twelve. “Okay, it’ll end now, then. This week with you is over.” He looks at Mingyu, whose face is now creased with disappointment. “It’s over, Mingyu.”

“I don’t understand,” Mingyu says slowly. “You just said that you liked me, but why are you doing this?”

“Because,” and Wonwoo breaches the gap between them, taking the final step to Mingyu until they’re pressed nearly chest to chest with one another. He looks up at Mingyu, looks up into Mingyu’s eyes, and asks, with the brightest smile he can muster on his face, “Kim Mingyu, will you go out with me?”

Mingyu stares at him for a second, then two, and then his entire face crumples. “I will,” Mingyu whispers, and he drags his arm across his eyes. “Hyung, you’re so _ridiculous_ , I swear, why are you like this.”

“Even if one week ends, I can keep doing this, right? I’ll ask you every week, again and again, until you get tired of me.”

Mingyu snorts, his eyes still watery. “I won’t get tired of you, hyung. Never. I’ve waited so long for you, did you think I would give you up that easily now that I know you like me?”

“Well,” Wonwoo trails off before he leans forward so he can knock his forehead against Mingyu’s, his arms coming up to wrap around Mingyu’s shoulders. “I won’t let you give me up anymore. We should just date for real, then.”

“That sounds good with me,” Mingyu says, his arms coming to rest on Wonwoo’s hips. Wonwoo hasn’t noticed it until now, but when they’re this close, he can see a small mole Mingyu has on his cheek. His fingers move on their own accord to brush against the mole, and Mingyu startles before laughing. “You never noticed?”

“No,” Wonwoo says absently, leaning up again. “Never was close enough to you to see it like this.”

Mingyu’s breath hitches before he says, even and measured, “Hyung, you know, I thought you would never see me this way.” Wonwoo knows what he means by that— that he wouldn’t ever see Mingyu as more than just an underclassman.

“I might’ve before,” Wonwoo admits, lacing his fingers behind Mingyu’s neck and dragging him downwards, “but not anymore.”

This kiss is slower than the first, like they’re content to take their time, and when they pull apart, Mingyu rests his forehead against Wonwoo’s again before he sticks his pinky finger up between them. “Promise you won’t go?”

“I won’t,” Wonwoo says, hooking his pinky finger around Mingyu’s and shaking it. “That’s a promise.”

Mingyu grins at Wonwoo, wide and toothy, and Wonwoo can’t help it— an answering smile breaks out across his face, and then Mingyu is pulling him closer again, so close that Wonwoo feels like he could just _melt_  into him.

 _Yeah_ , Wonwoo thinks as Mingyu plants a light kiss the tip of his nose before pulling back and grinning wildly, and the sunshine framing Mingyu’s face looks like a halo— he looks handsome, even more handsome now that Wonwoo knows that Mingyu likes him the same way he likes Mingyu. Mingyu is his and he's Mingyu's and Wonwoo doesn’t know if there’s anything better than this. _Next week is going to be a good week._

 

(?? days remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday jeoneonu my sunflower i love you ♡ one more chapter left ;;;


	8. monday, once more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17 july: a new week begins.

At midnight, Soonyoung spams Wonwoo with enough happy birthday messages that if he printed them all out, he could probably cover an entire house with them. Jihoon sends him a _happy birthday loser_ , which Wonwoo responds to with a _shut up, i’m older than you now_. Jeonghan and Seungcheol and Wonwoo’s other friends all write him messages, and he responds to them all as soon as he can.

All except one.

Wonwoo stares at Mingyu’s messages for what feels like an eternity. He’s still over the moon from earlier today. Mingyu had walked Wonwoo home after that, and they’d spent a few minutes just standing in front of Wonwoo’s house and hugging until Bohyuk had come home and immediately started to collapse in laughter and tears. Wonwoo had reassure Mingyu that “No, it’s not you, my brother’s just an asshole,” and then after Mingyu had walked off, Wonwoo had kicked Bohyuk’s ass to Jupiter and back.

According to Bohyuk, Wonwoo had been “even weirder than normal, what the hell” during dinner, and even their parents squinted at him over their rice and side dishes.

“Wonwoo-yah, are you okay?” his mom had ventured, and Wonwoo kicked Bohyuk in the shin to stop him from blabbing and revealing all of his secrets.

“I’m fine, mom.” Wonwoo had smiled at her, and he could tell by the furrow in her eyebrows that she hadn’t been entirely convinced. Then, in a miraculous stroke of luck, her weekly drama started airing on the TV behind them and with her attention diverted, Wonwoo had sighed heavily.

It brings him to now, where he's laying awake in bed and staring at his phone. He supposes that Mingyu doesn’t have any idea when his birthday is— they’d never discussed that, after all, and Wonwoo doesn’t know if Mingyu is friends with any of Wonwoo’s friends. It’s probably not a big deal at all, so he puts the thought aside in his head and goes to sleep.

He gets a good morning text from Mingyu, and he smiles as he types up a response. Classic Mingyu, knowing that Wonwoo wouldn’t ever wake up before seven unless it was absolutely necessary.

_06:48 mingyu: hi hyung!_  
_06:48 mingyu: wake up~_  
_06:50 wonwoo: im awake now_  
_06:50 wonwoo: thanks_

Bohyuk teases him all over breakfast (“Hyung, are you sure you’re good enough for that guy? He’s too handsome and tall for you, maybe you should consider someone who doesn’t look like he just walked out of a magazine”) and Wonwoo jabs back at him— “Hey, if you think you can do better, just try. I’m waiting.” He goes to school as usual, taking his usual seat and writing down his usual notes. Everything is as it always is, and soon, the fact that it’s his birthday today gets pushed to the back of his brain by his upcoming exams and the festival.

Apparently, he’s going to have to help staff it since the club that usually helps sets up the festival is going to be busy later in the week. While the festival itself is actually fun, the hours of planning and setting everything up aren’t, and Wonwoo sighs to himself after he gets the message from Seungcheol that he’ll be on duty this week. His phone buzzes again, and since it’s in the middle of class, he puts it away without checking the message.

Lunch rolls around, and when Wonwoo picks up his phone to check the message, he realizes that he’s fucked up. There’s a message from Mingyu waiting for him right at the top of his screen— _Hyung, can you meet me on the rooftop for lunch? ^^_

_Shit_.

“I gotta go,” Wonwoo says hurriedly to Jihoon, who only nods.

“Okay.” Jihoon doesn’t even look up from his rice. “We’re still on for after school though right?”

He, Jihoon, and Soonyoung have had a tradition dating back as far as their very first days together where they get ice cream after any one of their birthdays. There’s no way he’ll pass up the chance for free ice cream. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, see ya. Have fun.”

As he exits the classroom, he bumps into Soonyoung, and before he can tell Soonyoung where he’s headed, he just gets an eyebrow waggle from the other boy.

“Hey, have fun, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung chirps, raising his eyebrows in what he probably thinks is a suggestive manner before he darts into the classroom. Wonwoo stares at him, wondering just what the fuck that was all about before he shakes his head. Mingyu is waiting.

When Wonwoo pushes the door open, he’s fully expecting to see Mingyu standing in front of him or sitting next to the shed. He’s nowhere in sight, and Wonwoo steps forward with a frown starting to curl at his lips. Where is he?

“Boo!” He hears from right behind him, and he can’t help it, he screams, flinching forward and whirling around. Mingyu’s standing there, a bright smile on his face, and goddammit, Wonwoo should’ve known.

“Holy fucking _shit_ , Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo gasps, reaching forward to punch Mingyu in the arm.

“Ow,” Mingyu lets out even though the expression on his face doesn’t change at all. It’s then that Wonwoo notices that Mingyu’s holding something behind his back.

“What’s that you’re holding?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu’s smile gets even wider.

“Happy birthday, Wonwoo-hyung.” Mingyu holds out the cake he’d been hiding behind his back. It’s _pretty_ , white cream with small frosted flowers on it, and Wonwoo laughs outright at the small pair of glasses drawn next to the _Happy Birthday!!_  written in chocolate icing.

“Thank you, Mingyu,” Wonwoo says in wonder. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t talk to you all last night, I was trying to figure out how to make it as pretty as I could. Beating butter and powdered sugar is harder than it looks. My arms are so sore right now.”

“You didn’t have to,” Wonwoo says, looking up into Mingyu’s eyes.

“I wanted to, though,” Mingyu says, and he holds the cake out further. “Hyung, take it. I brought some forks and a knife if you want to cut it.”

Wonwoo takes the cake, marveling at how perfect it looks. A thought hits him. “Wait, how did you know my birthday was today? I don’t think I said anything about it?”

“Oh. I asked Soonyoung-hyung. He’s friends with one of my friends, Seokmin.” Mingyu shifts, looking just slightly uncomfortable. “I hope that’s okay with you?”

“No, it’s more than okay,” Wonwoo says, then he squints at Mingyu. Soonyoung knows _way_  too much about Wonwoo, and he’s not sure if he wants all of this information readily available to Mingyu from the start. “Did he… tell you anything else?”

Mingyu shakes his head, though, and Wonwoo is about to heave a sigh of relief when Mingyu speaks up again with a shit-eating grin on his lips. “Maybe he did. Who knows?”

“Why are you making my life so hard?” Wonwoo complains, but there’s no real bite behind it. The weight of the cake is comforting in his hands, and just holding it sends a warm feeling through his entire body.

They sit down at their usual spot, and when Wonwoo looks over at Mingyu, it’s strange. They’re both mostly the same people they were last week, but there’s so much that has changed in the span of just a few days. Mingyu cuts the cake for him, seemingly unaware, and Wonwoo watches as Mingyu takes a slice out and puts it on a plate. Instead of handing the plate to him, though, Mingyu picks up a small portion on a fork and holds it out to Wonwoo.

“Here you go, hyung.”

Wonwoo purses his lips before he leans forward to take it. It’s delicious, the light cream pairing well with the cake. It doesn’t even taste like something a high school second year would make, and Wonwoo finds himself being continuously impressed by the extent of Mingyu’s culinary skills. “Thanks, Mingyu. It’s really good.”

“I’m glad,” Mingyu says, taking a small bite for himself as well. He looks up. “Hyung, there’s some cream on your face.”

“Oh, really?” Wonwoo tries to lick it off, but Mingyu takes his wrist and leans forward to close the distance between them.

“Hyung, let me.”

Mingyu’s lips are soft against Wonwoo’s, and Wonwoo stares at Mingyu’s closed eyes before he shuts his own, his thoughts swimming in his head. So he’d been overreacting to wonder if Mingyu knew about his birthday or not. In the end, Mingyu had taken the initiative to ask Soonyoung about when his birthday was, and he’d even made a cake for Wonwoo. And now _this_ , with the cheesy “let me lick the cream off of your lip” moment. So he’d _planned_  it all, exactly what kind of knockoff drama moment was all of this?

Mingyu pulls away after just a few seconds, and he licks the cream that’s transferred onto his lips. “Got it,” Mingyu declares. Wonwoo stares at him as he grins, and it’s then that he realizes there’s only really one way he can go from here. There’s no way he’s losing this war, so he has to give back as good as he gets.

“Nah,” Wonwoo says, and he scoots closer to Mingyu and takes the plate of cake out of Mingyu’s hands, placing it on the ground. “You missed a spot, too.”

He watches as Mingyu’s eyes dance with amusement, like he knows what Wonwoo’s up to. Mingyu’s lips are parted just slightly, and Wonwoo just wants to lick the small white speck on Mingyu’s lower lip away. So he does, again and again and again.

 

_even though we don’t know_  
_when our last will be_  
_even if something happens_  
_and we can’t see each other_  
_lean on me_  
_lean on me_

 

(∞ days remaining)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand that's a wrap, folks! thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos, it means the _world_ to me that you enjoyed it enough to take the time to write something, and to everyone who subscribed, tysm for following along ;;;; i hope you all enjoyed it, since this was kind of lowkey my baby while i was writing it haha~ i'll probably have a new thing up in a bit so get hyped ;-) anyway thank you all!!!!! [♡](https://68.media.tumblr.com/14c73d55bdba9e42562df8f2f031d351/tumblr_nuvnouIMVJ1uffg52o1_250.gif)


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